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TREASURE ISLAND 



ROBERT LOUIS STEVENSON 

* 

EDITED, WITH NOTES AND AN INTRODUCTION 
BY 

HIRAM ALBERT VANCE, Ph.D. (Jena) 

PROFESSOR OF ENGLISH IN THE UNIVERSITY OF NASHVILLE 


THE MACMILLAN COMPANY 

LONDON: MACMILLAN & CO., Ltd. 

1903 


All rights reserved 



Set up and electrotyped December, 1902. 



TCorfooob 13rrss 

J. 8. Cushing & Co. — Berwick & Smith 
Norwood Mas*. U.S.A. 


« 


TREASURE ISLAND 


fffiacnullatt*0 pocket American anti lEnjg Its;!) Classics 


A Series of English Texts, edited for use in Secondary Schools, 
with Critical Introductions, Notes, etc. 


l6mo. 


Cloth. 25c. each. 


Addison’s Sir Roger de Coverley. 
Browning’s Shorter Poems. 

Burke’s Speech on Conciliation. 
Byron’s Childe Harold’s Pilgrimage. 
Carlyle’s Essay on Burns. 

Chaucer’s Prologue, etc. 

Coleridge’s The Ancient Mariner. 
Cooper’s The Last of the Mohicans. 
De Quincey’s Confessions of an 
Opium-Eater. 

Dryden’s Palamon and Arcite. 

Early American Orations. 

Eliot’s Silas Marner. 

Franklin’s Autobiography. 

Goldsmith’s The Vicar of Wakefield. 
Hawthorne's Twice-told Tales : Selec- 
tions. 

Irving’s The Alhambra. 

Irving’s Sketch Book. 

Longfellow’s Evangeline. 

Lowell’s The Vision of Sir Launfal. 
Macaulay’s Essay on Addison. 
Macaulay’s Essay on Lord Clive. 


Macaulay’s Essay on Milton. 
Macaulay’s Essay on Hastings. 
Milton’s Comus and Other Poems. 
Milton’s Paradise Lost, Bks. I and II. 
Poe’s Prose Tales. 

Pope’s Homer’s Iliad. 

Ruskin’s Sesame and Lilies. 

Scott’s Ivanhoe. 

Scott’s The Lady of the Lake. 
Scott’s Marmion. 

Selections from the Poems of Mrs. 

Elizabeth Barrett Browning. 
Shakespeare’s As You Like It. 
Shakespeare’s Julius Caesar. 
Shakespeare’s Macbeth. 
Shakespeare’s Merchant of Venice. 
Shelley and Keats : Poems. 

Southern Poets : Selections. 
Stevenson’s Treasure Island. 
Tennyson’s Idylls of the King. 
Tennyson’s The Princess. 
Wordsworth’s Shorter Poems. 


OTHERS TO FOLLOW. 


























































































































































































































































* 






























Irtwo 


St 


'XvvO^yv v 








PREFATORY NOTE 


The immediate interest, unattended by historical perspec- 
tive or severe analysis, which this classic must arouse is, I 
believe, a sufficiently sound pedagogical reason for its appear- 
ance in this series. And the opportunity it offers for studying 
(1) a simple type of narration as distinct from the more com- 
plex types and (2) the means here employed to produce a 
definite unity of effect in the whole, cannot be unwelcome to 
teacher or student. With this end in view I have simply 
sought in the introduction to give an idea of the making of 
Stevenson, the writer, — leaving for the most part the technical 
elements of his style to appear by analysis in the class-room, — 
and to arouse the student’s interest in the man ; to the end 
that he may be led to know at first hand more of this graceful 
stylist and inspiriting personality. The notes are either expla- 
nations of sea-terms or suggestions for the enlargement of 
romantic interest. The text is that of the second English 
edition. The portrait used as the frontispiece is from a hitherto 
unpublished photograph of the author. 


h. a. v. 






















-• 
















































CONTENTS 


PAGE 

Prefatory Note ......... y 

Introduction ......... xi 

Subjects for Study and Composition . . . xxviii 

Bibliography xxviii 

Map of Treasure Island xxx 

To the Hesitating Purchaser xxxi 

TREASURE ISLAND: 

PART I. THE OLD BUCCANEER 

CHAPTER 

I. The Old Sea Dog at the “ Admiral Benbow ” . 1 

II. Black Dog Appears and Disappears ... 8 

III. The Black Spot 15 

IY. The Sea-chest . . . . * . . 22 

V. The Last of the Blind Man 29 

VI. The Captain’s Papers 35 

• 

PART II. THE SEA COOK 

VII. I go to Bristol ....... 42 

VIII. At the Sign of the “ Spy-glass ” .... 48 

IX. Powder and Arms 54 

X. The Voyage 60 

XI. What I Heard in the Apple Barrel ... 66 

XII. Council of War 73 

vii 


CONTENTS 


viii 

PART III. MY SHORE ADVENTURE 

CHAPTER PAGE . 

XIII. How my Shore Adventure Began . . .79 

XIV. The First Blow 85 

XY. The Man of the Island ..... 91 

PART IV. THE STOCKADE 

XYI. Narrative Continued by the Doctor : How the^ 

Ship was Abandoned ..... 98 

XVII. Narrative Continued by the Doctor: The Jolly- 

boat’s Last Trip 103 

XVIII. Narrative Continued by the Doctor : End of the 

First Day’s Fighting ..... 108 

XIX. Narrative Resumed by Jim Hawkins : The Gar- 
rison in the Stockade 113 

XX. Silver’s Embassy 119 

XXI. The Attack 125 

PART V. MY SEA ADVENTURE 

XXII. How my Sea Adventure Began .... 132 

XXIII. The Ebb-tide Runs 138 

XXIV. The Cruise of the Coracle 143 

XXV. I Strike the Jolly Roger 149 

XXVI. Israel Hands 155 

XXVII. “ Pieces of Eight ” 164 

PART VI. CAPTAIN SILVER 

XXVIII. In the Enemy’s Camp 171 

XXIX. The Black Spot Again 179 


CONTENTS 


lx 


CHAPTER PAGE 

XXX. On Parole 186 

XXXI. The Treasure Hunt — Flint’s Pointer . . . 193 

XXXII. The Treasure Hunt — The Voice Among the 

Trees 200 

XXXIII. The Fall of a Chieftain 207 

XXXIV. And Last . 213 

Notes 219 





INTRODUCTION 


Robert Lewis Balfour Stevenson 1 was born Novem- 
ber 13, 1850, at Edinburgh, Scotland, and died December 3, 
1894, at Apia in the Samoan Islands. He was the only 
child of Thomas Stevenson, a man of “ blended sternness and 
softness that was wholly Scottish,” and of his wife Margaret 
Isabella, the youngest daughter of the Reverend James Balfour 
of the parish of Colinton in Midlothian. The Stevensons for 
two generations had been civil engineers, and had held the hon- 
orable position of engineers to the Board of Northern Light- 
houses — the grandfather, Robert, building the famous Bell 
Rock Lighthouse and the father, Thomas — under his brother 
Alan — the Skerry vore, “ the noblest of all extant deep-sea 
lights ” ; and it was thought that the latest born of this race 
should maintain the tradition of the family and succeed to the 
office of his father. And later, when it w T as found that he had 
profited little by his studies and had small taste for engineering, 
it was again decided for him that the law rather than literature 
offered a profession more in keeping with his station and his 
father’s notion of an honorable career. But in the case of 
Stevenson, as in that of many another in whom the current 

1 It was some time about his eighteenth year that the author began 
to sign himself Robert Louis Stevenson; although, it is said, in the 
pronunciation of his intimate friends he was still called Lewis. 

xi 


INTRODUCTION 


xii 

toward letters has run strong, these plans miscarried ; and he 
filled a place and reached a renown little dreamed of at the out- 
set. 

He inherited from his father a genial humor, a touch of 
Celtic melancholy, a sensitive conscience, a fondness for dog- 
matic statement, and a love for romance and for open-air activity ; 
from his mother, a brilliancy, vivacity, and native grace, and a 
feminine sensitiveness to impressions ; from her, likewise, a frail 
body and a predisposition to pulmonary disease, which he never 
outgrew, and which condemned him to a life of invalidism. From 
his second year he was much in bed ; and that morbid sense of 
self which in a healthy body is soon lost sight of, he had always 
to struggle with. But the myriad impressions from without 
that came crowding in upon his “ full-blooded spirit,” enabled 
him to exercise his morbid impulses with a wholesome restraint 
and to coin his life’s best into living words of cheer, which gave 
to all his writing its chief charm and to his personality a peculiar 
human interest. For nowhere have those childish interests — 
the interests of the natural man — more completely filled grown- 
up effort : nowhere have those visions of childhood, with their 
wonder and glory, been better preserved — to mention but one 
book — than in A Child’s Garden of Verse by this child of 
thirty-five. Thus out of “ The Land of Counterpane ” 

“ I watched my leaden soldiers go, 

With different uniforms and drills, 

Among the bed-clothes, through the hills ; 

“ And sometimes sent my ships in fleets 
All up and down among the sheets ; 

Or brought my trees and houses out, 

And planted cities all about.” 

His school days, which began in 1857, were much broken in 
consequence of his ill health ; but he attended with more or less 
regularity several schools in the neighborhood of his home : first 


INTRODUCTION 


Xlll 


Mr. Henderson’s preparatory school, then the Edinburgh Acad- 
3my, and finally the day-school of Mr. Thomson. In these, 
together with one term at a boarding-school at Spring Grove, 
Ilesworth, in Middlesex, and with much private tutoring at 
home and abroad, he completed his preparation for the Univer- 
sity of Edinburgh, which he entered in 1867. But his education 
was not confined to the school-room, for he early began those 
travels that finally took him far afield. In 1857 he visited 
with his parents the English lakes; and in 1862, London and 
the south of England, and spent a part of the same summer at 
Homburg. The winter of 1863 the Stevensons spent at Men- 
tone ; and in the following spring they made a tour through 
Italy, Switzerland, and Germany — visiting in their itinerary 
Genoa, Naples, Rome, Florence, Venice, Innsbruck, and the Rhine 
region. The next spring finds Stevenson wdth his mother again 
in the Riviera, and the two following springs with her at Tor- 
quay in Devonshire, England. And while we find in his writ- 
ings no direct reference to these travels, their influence upon 
this impressionable youth and future writer — for he then had 
the purpose of making of himself a writer — must have been 
incalculable. And we know that at least one scene from these 
travels, the Brenner Pass, lives again in his incomparable 
“Will o’ the Mill ” 1 in a manner unknown to histories or guide- 
books. 

Up to this time, however, there was in his attempts at writ- 
ing nothing remarkable. He had, to be sure, composed in his 
sixth year a “ History of Moses ” ; and had acquired the habit, 
when about fourteen, of extemporizing doggerel verse and of 
starting magazines in manuscript which contained stories filled 
with horrors ; and he had written, when but sixteen, “ The 
Pentland Rising,” wdiich has been dignified by a place in the 
complete edition of his works. Yet these efforts contain noth- 
ing that might not have been expected of any clever boy, roman- 
1 The Merry Men. 


XIV 


INTRODUCTION 


tic in temperament and much alone, who felt the need of 
self-expression. But much more remarkable were the impres- 
sions of those years which waited for fuller utterance, and 
which found it in Memories and Portraits and in other of his 
works. 

But his university career, while it did not contribute so 
much to his formal education, had an important bearing upon 
his future, and was the beginning of what may be called his 
real education. His health had now become so far improved 
that he no longer, on that account, had to give over his studies ; 
and he took a young man’s interest in the life about him. At 
first he studied Latin, Greek, and natural philosophy ; but soon 
Greek gave place to mathematics, and later Latin to engineer- 
ing ; and he usually spent a part of his summers in shops and 
yards, or on inspecting tours, which were to familiarize him 
with the more practical side of his profession as engineer. In 
none of these activities, however, could his effort be called as- 
siduous; and no one, as he affirms, “ever had more certificates 
(of attendance) for less education.” Indeed the occasion offered 
him not so much an opportunity for fitting himself for his 
father’s profession as “a way of life”; and he busied himself 
far less with the subjects of the lecture-room than with that 
“system of truantry, which cost him a deal of trouble to put 
in exercise.” And the particular way waves had of imping- 
ing upon a harbor-bar was far less interesting to him than the 
din of the surf in the distance, the scent of the salt wind in his 
nostrils, or the thrilling sense of physical danger. 

The companionship, too, of those years filled a want that 
could not be wholly satisfied by books. And the “ high jinks,” 
the exercise in the open air, the laughter (the mere expression of 
animal spirit), and the talk big with purpose and. varied in scope 
were all wholesome ; for they broke a “ miserable isolation,” and 
helped Stevenson to discover himself. It was at this time that 
his cousin, R. A. M. Stevenson, an Oxford student, a man of the 


INTRODUCTION 


XV 


world, and a brilliant talker, 1 was much with him ; and it was 
his mere coming that “changed,” as Stevenson declared, “ at once 
and forever the course of my life.” Others who shared this com- 
radeship were Charles Baxter, the faithful adviser and constant 
friend ; James Walter Ferrier, gentle and gifted, who figures 
in “ Old Mortality ” ; 2 Sir Walter Simpson, with whom he made 
An Inland Voyage; and Fleeming Jenkin, 3 his professor of 
engineering. These were men of rich personalities, yet of different 
types ; and each gave to his friend of his best, and helped to ’ 
create an atmosphere, free from restraint, in which it was a 
pleasure to breathe. 

Yet these years were not altogether years of gayety to Steven- 
son. The conscious purpose of life weighed heavily with him. 
And the insolent way youth has of disposing of grave problems 
caused him not joy but sorrow, since it gave pain to others. 
For in seeking to square a freedom from within by that freedom 
from restraint which he enjoyed from without, he was led to look 
upon the creed and conventionalities that were held by those 
he loved, as ugly and mean. And without understanding, as 
he later did, that creeds may be the intellectual expressions of 
a kindred faith, he called himself an atheist, and gave bitter 
anguish to his fathers. But had Stevenson never suffered from 
“ the green sickness of youth,” Archie Weir would not have had 
the same ailment, and Weir of Hermiston would have lost its 
informing idea. 

Another thing that also weighed heavily with him was his 
conduct toward his father in the matter of his profession. This, 
happily, was something that could be more easily mended ; 
for during a memorable week in April, 1871, shortly after he 
had read his paper “On a New Form of Intermittent Light ” 

1 Spring-Heel’ d Jack of “ Talk and Talkers ” : Memories and Por- 
traits. In the same essay W. E. Henley is disguised as Burley, Jenkin 
as Cockshot, Simpson as Athelred, and J. A.Symondsas Opatstein. 

2 Memories and Portraits, p. 50. 

3 Cf. Memoir of Fleeming Jenkin. 


XY1 


INTRODUCTION 


— his one contribution to the profession — he unbosomed him- 
self to his father, made clear to him his distaste for engineering, 
and sought his consent to follow the profession of letters. And 
while this consent in part was withheld, and it was agreed that 
Louis was to fit himself instead for the Scottish Bar, it was 
nevertheless understood that the law was only to serve him as 
a livelihood, should he ever be in want and letters fail him as 
his father feared they might. 

And with the atmosphere thus cleared, he entered upon his 
career with more earnestness. He attended the law lectures at 
the University ; entered the office of a law firm as clerk ; was 
admitted to the practice of the profession, in 1875; and then 
waited for clients. But the real business of those years, as it 
had been of those before, was the making of himself a writer ; 
and the freedom from the routine of professional life, which the 
absence of clients now assured him, was not unwelcome. And 
with the same avidity as he had pursued the task of writing (an 
account of which he has given us in “A College Magazine ; ” 1 an 
account which should be diligently studied by all who would 
find in their writing an adequate expression of self), he still 
pursued his preparation for authorship. And for the next five 
years we find him, in essay, and in notes on travel, and later in 
the short-story, winning his way with the public. 

The year 1873-74 was a memorable one in Stevenson’s career. 
It marked the beginning of that friendship with Mr. Sidney 
Colvin, which became at once such a spur to his literary en- 
deavor, was so enduring, and which had its monument in the 
Vailima Letters. It was also in this year that his first accepted 
article, “ Roads,” saw light in The Portfolio ; and it was like- 
wise in this same year that he learned of the threatening phthisis, 
which sent him again for the winter to the Riviera — and of 
this sojourn, all he saw and thought and felt he gave the next 
spring in “ Ordered South.” 2 And it was here that Mr. Colvin, 
1 Memories and Portraits. 2 Virginibus Puerisque. 


INTRODUCTION 


XVII 


who had joined him in December at Mentone, introduced him to 
another helpful friend, Mr. Andrew Lang. And on his return 
to Edinburgh the next spring — after a brief stay wfith R. A. 
M. Stevenson, who was now studying art at Paris — he happily 
found his parents reconciled to his way of life, and, what was 
likewise significant, himself the possessor of an allowance ample 
enough to insure him freedom of action. And thereafter we 
find him dividing his time between Scotland, England, and 
France — seeking the intercourse of literary men in the Old 
Savile Club at London, and the haunts of artists in and about 
the forest of Fontainebleau, or taking excursions afoot, or with 
canoe or donkey. And all this time, true to the business in 
hand, he was enlarging his reputation, if as yet with a limited 
public, at least with some of the best editors in England. 

And it was at Grez, upon his return from An Inland Voyage, 
that he met in 1876 Mrs. Osbourne, an American lady who had 
suffered the loss of domestic happiness in California, and had 
sought with her two children what solace a change of scene and 
the study of art might bring in France. The meeting was of 
the utmost significance to both ; for here was the woman whom 
three years later Stevenson braved strange fortune and parental 
displeasure, and crossed half the world to meet ; and who, on 
her part, in the years succeeding, proved him such a helpful 
friend and devoted wife. 

In the meanwhile fiction, which was to take more and more 
the place of the essay in his writings, appeared first in 1877 in 
“ A Lodging for the Night.” 1 In the following year appeared his 
first book ; 2 also his first serial publications — New Arabian 
Nights, and Picturesque Notes on Edinburgh; and “Will o’ 
the Mill,” which showed great originality of conception and a 
mastery of style, and which is still regarded by many as his 
best short-story. This was likewise the year of Mrs. Osbourne’s 
return to America, and of his week’s trip through the Cdvennes, 
1 New Arabian Nights. 2 An Inland Voyage . 


xviii INTRODUCTION 

which was set forth the next June in Travels with a Donkey. 
And now we hear of him first here then there ; at London and 
at his father’s country home at Swanston, collaborating in the 
play, Deacon Brodie, with Mr. W. E. Henley (whom he first 
met in a hospital at Edinburgh in 1874), or visiting with Mr. 
George Meredith. Then he crosses to France and plans a trip to the 
Pyrenees, but his heart is elsewhere, and he returns ; and against 
the advice of his friends, and without that of his family, he set 
sail in August, 1879, for New York, and gained that experience 
which is recorded in The Amateur Emigrant and Across the 
Plains. 

In California came the breakdown. The leave-taking from 
his friends, the uncertainty of his own future, the disquieting 
news of Mrs. Osbourne’s ill health, and the hardships of the 
long journey had so shaken him that he reached San Francisco 
late in August in a state of nervous exhaustion. Then another 
journey of one hundred and fifty miles south to the Coast Range 
beyond Monterey, where he thought to regain his health by 
camping alone in the open air. But his overtaxed strength 
here gave way ; and for two nights, which might have been his 
last had he not been rescued by two goatherds, he lay under 
a tree in a stupor. He mended, however ; remained in Monterey 
till the middle of December; then went to San Francisco to 
begin his hand-to-hand struggle with life itself. 

To husband his scant funds he lodged himself in a single 
room, and living at a cost of seventy cents a day, plunged into 
work ; but the quality of the work which he sent home, while 
it was acceptable to editors, did not meet the approving judg- 
ment of his friends. However, remittances could not be delayed, 
and he had no other choice but to work the harder. In the 
meantime his correspondence with his family had been brief 
and unsatisfactory. His father, ill informed of his son’s affairs, 
naturally took a gloomy view of his conduct. And to add to 
this discomfiture, his funds were now failing him, and disease, 


INTRODUCTION 


XIX 


which now made rapid inroads on his health, was leading him 
dangerously near “ the grey ferry.” Yet in all this trying ex- 
perience^ — estranged from family, poor, and^ broken in health, 
— he never lost heart, nor once turned his back on his resolu- 
tion. At length the skies grew brighter. His health improved 
with cheering news from home. And with an assured income 
of one hundred and fifty pounds a year from his father, and with 
the legal bar to their union removed, he was married to Mrs. 
Osbourne on the 19th of May, 1880 ; then after a stay with his 
wife and stepson at a deserted mining town fifty miles north of 
San Francisco — the scene of The Silverado Squatters — he 
turned eastward with his family, and sailed for Liverpool on the 
date of his embarkation hitherward the year before. 

But his return was not for long ; for it was now evident that 
he could not withstand the rigor of the northern winters. And 
thereafter, an exile in quest of health, he spent the next two 
winters at Davos Platz, a part of another at Marseilles, a year 
at Hybres — the happiest of his life ; then, to be near his father 
who was now in failing health, three more at Bournemouth, 
where he “lived like a weevil in a biscuit,” and Europe was 
to see him no more. Then after another brief sojourn in 
America, and after three cruises, he built for himself a home in 
an island of the far seas, and died there. 

But the writer was now made; for while he went on re- 
vealing himself more and more in his writings, even giving in 
his unfinished work the promise of a robuster art, the out- 
growth of a more significant view of life, it was during his 
second winter at Davos that he finished Treasure Island , 
which was to make his reputation with the larger public. 
And of the making of this tale, he has left us a complete 
record in “My First Book.” 1 

It was begun in September at Braemar, and had its incep- 
tion in a map of an odd-shaped island — they called it “ Treas- 
1 Written for McClure's Magazine , Yol. 3, p. 283. 


XX 


INTRODUCTION 


ure Island ” — which he drew one day from fancy to amuse his 
stepson. But so fascinated was he by this drawing, and such 
was his sense of the picturesque, that almost immediately char- 
acters began to appear and to express for him the peculiar 
romantic atmosphere that seemed to invest it ; and from the 
list of chapters that was soon written out — a thing that he 
had often done before for other stories without proceeding much 
farther — John Silver, the genial, brave, strong, and conscience- 
less adventurer stept forth and began to live among his fellows. 
He had written successful short-stories, but here was the mate- 
rial for a long one ; a boy’s book of adventure, with little plot, 
no love, nor any conscience at all : just pictures, the open air, 
the sea, a buried treasure, the eternal, youthful spirit of hope 
and physical courage. And with a boy for an audience — to 
which his father soon joined himself, and even furnished the 
list of articles in Billy Bones’s chest, and gave to “ Flint’s old 
ship ” the name of Walrus — he wrote in fifteen days a like 
number of chapters of what was then called The Sea Cook , 
which he read in $he evenings for the entertainment of the 
assembled family. Fortunately at one of these readings Dr. 
Japp 1 was present as guest; and such was his delight with 
the tale that, when he left, he bore away with him a copy of 
the first few chapters of it to his friend, Mr. Henderson, the 
editor of Young Folks. The story was readily accepted ; and 
it began its serial existence the same autumn. But with the 
same suddenness with which the tale had started, it broke 
down in the middle ; and it was not till Stevenson had reached 
Davos that one day he sat down at the return of a second 
flood of inspiration, and finished it at the old rate of a chapter 
a day . 2 

Its existence, however, in the magazine was obscure, and 

1 Alexander Hay Japp, editor and author. 

2 For Stevenson’s defence of this story, see “ A Humble Remon- 
strance ” : Memories and Portraits, pp. 286 ff. 


INTRODUCTION 


XXI 


called from the critics only scant and unfavorable notices ; but 
at its appearance in book form in December, 1883, the public 
hailed it with delight. It had been written for boys ; but now 
sedate men were sitting up past bedtime reading with rapt 
interest this book of boyish adventure. And from that time 
to this, it has remained his most popular book. And it was 
only the other day that his old friend, Sir Leslie Stephen — a 
critic to whose opinion we like to defer — said that “ Treasure 
Island is the one story [of Stevenson’s] which I can admire 
without the least qualification or reserve. The aim may not 
be the highest, but it is attained with the most thorough suc- 
cess. It may be described as a ‘ Message ’ in the sense that it 
appeals to the boyish element. ... We believe in it as we 
believe in Robinson Crusoe .” 1 

But this book did more than bring him an audience, it re- 
vealed to him the mood, the method, and the material, with 
which he could deal with success. And thereafter followed, 
without further hesitancy, The Black Arrow (1883), Prince 
Otto (1885), Kidnapped (1886), The Master of Ballantrae 
(1888), The Wrecker (1891), Catriona (1893), otherwise 
entitled David Balfour , The Ebb Tide (1893), and the un- 
finished St. Ives and Weir of Hermiston ; besides poems, 
short-stories, essays, letters of travel, biography, and notes on 
history. 

Among his best short-stories are : “Will o’ the Mill,” “Mark- 
heim,” “ Thrawn Janet, ” “ The Pavilion on the Links,” “The 
Treasure of Fanchard,” “The Merry Men,” “The Strange Case 
of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde,” and “ The Beach of Falesa ” 
But in none of his longer stories, save in Prince Otto and in 
Weir of Hermiston , 2 where we have the element of character 

1 National Review, 1892. 

2 For a fuller analysis of the method of treatment in these two 
books, see my Study in The Sewanee Review (April, 1892), from which 
I have here used a paragraph or two. 


XXII 


INTRODUCTION 


subordinated to that of plot, did he materially change his 
method of treatment. They are either “a certain atmosphere” 
expressed and realized by persons and actions, or characters 
developed by incidents and situations ; 1 for he loved “the art 
of words and the appearance of things,” and it was late when 
he learned to fit characters successfully to a plot with an under- 
lying motif. 

The major passion, therefore, found little place in his stories ; 
and his few women were not altogether satisfactorily drawn. 
For it was not love with its rewards and circumscribed plots 
and self-sufficiency that set best Stevenson’s genius; but life 
with a hazard — life kinetic under an open sky and on a broad 
field, full of struggle and “ tail-foremost morality ” ; life so cir- 
cumstanced that the characters, driven forward through clean 
open-air adventure, act their parts in obedience to natural 
impulses and practical intelligence without the hesitations of 
conscience or the halting at questions of conduct. The realities 
of life, confined within conventional society, statically conceived 
and set forth with a conscious moral purpose, were subjects 
which his genius shunned as his spirit shunned the sickrroom. 
They furnish the essential underlying idea to the dramatic novel 
and to the novel of character, but they offered him none of 
that spontaneity of action which could give employ to his 
buoyant spirit and graceful fancy. But let the inn at Burford 
Bridge, or the old Hawes Inn at the Queen’s Ferry , 2 but speak 
to him and there would rise to his mind a tale, epically con- 
ceived, fitted to the narrative mood and filled with the poetry 
of romance, in which the dominant note would be courage ; and 
“to be brave, to be honest, to be kind, and to be contented,” 
the sum of human virtue. Thus it needed but a buried 
treasure, a wide- sea and a fair fight for him to weave a tale 
as full of the spirit of youth and manly daring as it is rich in 

1 Cf. Balfour’s Life of Stevenson , Vol. IT, p. 168. 

2 Cf. “ A Gossip on Romance ” : Memories and Portraits , pp. 253 ff.' 


INTRODUCTION 


xxm 


imagination and perfect in form. Or set David Balfour 1 for 
him somewhere on a desert isle, and get him mixed up somehow 
in a Highland murder and pursued with Alan Breck by British 
soldiers, and again you have life with a hazard, into which he 
will infuse the whole spirit of the Highlands : the color of the 
sky, the scent of the heather, the joy of falling water, the 
weariness of fatigue, the pangs of hunger — all instinct with 
life and throbbing with a. full-pulsed vigor, in which Jacobite 
daring is set off against Whiggish caution, yet both united in a 
friendship born of common dangers and of the physical joys of 
living. 

It was somewhere in this sunny field of life, away from those 
common experiences that torture and slay, that his fancy 
delighted to linger; somewhere where he could lose the dis- 
tressing sense of self in boisterous and robust activity ; some- 
where where he could people incidents with real men and 
women, and feel the thrill of human kinship and satisfy a name- 
less longing. It was a limited view of life, and impotent of real 
purpose ; and the method which he chose to fit to it became 
rather fixed with him. But when he had found the matter 
that fitted perfectly his narrative method, he could throw him- 
self with such abandon into his work, fill it all with such a vivid 
imagination, such a wonderful feeling for beauty, such a mag- 
nanimous spirit and a desperate courage and a wholesome 
morality, that the art that thus passed through the alembic of 
his personality seemed akin to that of the flight of a bird, and 
had in it some of the gladness of the sky. 

But let the matter slip the method and become dramatic, as 
it does when at the end of the Appin murder trial David Bal- 
four goes abroad ; 2 let the characters once have time to consider 
their own conduct and to regard questions of cause and effect, 
and we are made sensible that the author, in his endeavor to 

1 Cf. Kidnapped. 

2 Cf. David Balfour , or Catriona of the English edition. 


XXIV 


INTRODUCTION 


sustain his narrative mood and properly dispose of his characters, 
shares some of the feelings of awkwardness that his own David 
felt with the fair Catriona alone with him in his Leyden lodg- 
ings. Or again, in The Master of Ballantrae , where the 
interest naturally centres around the fall of the House of Dar- 
risdeer, and where the action hinges upon “ duty and inclination 
that come nobly to the grapple ” in the two brothers, w T ho has 
not felt the narrative of the craven Mackeller and the chronicle 
of Chevalier Burke as impediments to the movement of the plot 
and to the freer display of passion ? And when the actors flee 
the scene of the struggle for America, who has not been shocked 
by the incongruity 1 And again, when the final scene comes in 
the northern wilderness, who has not been surprised at the 
appeal to moral judgment, winch seeks to make a devilish cun- 
ning seem the better part of virtue 1 Yet we cannot quarrel 
with an author about questions of treatment, when he has suc- 
ceeded so admirably in interesting us in his story, any more 
than we can withhold our approval from Alison Graeme in her 
preference for the engaging manners of James to the more solid 
qualities of Henry, when w r e ourselves take such a delight in an 
art as is bodied forth in the most invidious and accomplished 
villain, perhaps, in the whole range of English letters. 

But Stevenson came at a time of “ spiritual fatigue ” ; when 
literature had lost much of its freshness and vigor, and was busy 
puzzling out the weightier problems of existence ; when even 
novelists were laboriously setting forth grave theories, or making 
commonplace photogravures of life — seeking not so much to 
interest by their art as to inform by their matter. And the 
world, long since wearied by introspections and abstractions, was 
ready to turn away from gloomy forebodings to a more joyous 
mood. And it was well that at this time there came one with 
laughter on his lips and with sweetness in his heart to help guide 
the spiritual currents into healthy and natural ways ; one who 
had no theory of life to expound, no protest to make; who 


INTRODUCTION 


XXV 


found his interest not so much in life as in joyous, spontaneous 
living — “earth not grey but rosy,” and was glad to bravely 
make the best of it. And the whole-hearted way that he con- 
tributed to the wealth of existence in these exquisite stories of 
adventure, by which he led perplexed and tired souls away from 
the distressing sense of self to the virtues in the natural man, 
and thus helped to make a great reaction “ sane and sweet,” 
is Stevenson’s inestimable service to his age. “ It was a re- 
turn to run-wild elemental nature, to the stratum below the 
conventionalisms and artificialities of life ; and it was made in 
the healthiest, least-disturbing way possible ; not by denial or 
even propaganda, not by a picnic return to nature like Rousseau’s, 
but by simply harking back to the buoyant youthfulness that 
still survives in all of us, — das Ewigjugendliche. In youth, 
and in the spirit of youthfulness, we dare to let our blood bound 
and our untormented conscience carry off the experiences that 
come. We trust ourselves to the impulses of a period that has 
not yet become morbid and introspective. Full of energy this 
morning spirit is, but it is the energy of a large and joyous 
scale of living ; a noble manhood-energy which is its own ex- 
cuse for being. Such was the vital truth that Stevenson was 
concerned to set forth ; and no lesson ever came in better time.” 1 
It was much to master the technique of a literary style and to 
write a story marred in no respect by mawkish sentiment or by 
dreary descriptions, nor laden with a conscious moral purpose ; but 
one in which every detail of plot, character, and incident was so 
skilfully handled as to contribute to a definite unity of effect in 
the whole, and to rap the reader clean out of himself by the in- 
terest of the telling. It was more to seize upon those primary 
qualities jn man’s nature and set them forth in incidents so 
stirring as to idealize active virtues and to glorify mere living. 
Yet Stevenson did more than this. He affected powerfully the 
letters of his time ; and that healthy spirit of animalism — and 
1 Stevenson's Attitude to Life , by John Franklin Genung. 


XXVI 


INTRODUCTION 


shall we not say much of that refinement of form — which we 
enjoy in the best writers of the present had its beginning with 
him. “The most inspiriting, the most fascinating human being 
I have ever known/’ one 1 called him ; another 2 declared that 
“ when he lived he moved men to put their utmost into writings 
that quite certainly would never meet his eye, [and that for 
five years before his death] the needle of literary endeavor in 
Great Britain quivered towards a little island in the South 
Pacific, as to its magnetic pole.” And he taught besides many 
another anew, no less by his life than by his letters, that true 
art, like perfect service, is the unconscious revelation of per- 
sonality. 

He held that “ Acts may be forgiven : not even God can 
forgive the hanger-back.” 3 Again: “It is better to lose 
health like a spendthrift than to waste it like a miser. It is 
better to live and be done with it, than to die daily in the sick- 
room. By all means begin your folio ; even if the doctor does 
not give you a year, even if he hesitates about a month, make 
one brave push and see what can be accomplished in a week. 
It is not only in finished undertakings that we ought to honor 
useful labor. A spirit goes out of the man who means execu- 
tion which outlives the most untimely ending. All who have 
meant good work with their whole hearts, have done good work, 
although they may die before they have time to sign it.” 4 And 
his whole life was an earnest of this ; and no part of it more so 
"than the ending. 

He left England in 1887, immediately after the death of his 
father, and first sought health, in the Adirondacks. But he 
found the climate here too severe; and the next June he began 
those . cruises (first in the yacht Casco , then in th # e traders 
Equator and Janet Nicoll ), 5 which during the next two and 

1 Edmund Gosse. 2 A. T. Quiller-Couch. 

3 It was the opposite of this maxim that “ AYill o’ the Mill ” acted on. 

4 Virginibus Puerisque, p. 169. 5 Cf. In the South Sects, 


INTRODUCTION 


XXYll 


a half years took him to most of the principal islands of the 
Eastern and Central Pacific, and finally to Samoa, where he 
bought a large tract of land two miles behind the town of 
Apia, and six hundred feet above it, and built him a home 
there. And how he here employed his “inch of life ” — rejoic- 
ing in labor, taking the keenest pleasure in possession, gather- 
ing about him a family, and planning for the future — is 
chronicled in the Vailima Letters. It was a time of politi- 
cal disturbance and of grave disquietude in the island. But 
when he saw the natives lying helpless, despoiled of their 
rights, and misjudged and misgoverned by a selfish foreign 
officialdom, the invalid in quest of life, unmindful of his own 
dangers, even threatened with deportation, flung himself, with 
a courage that was ever the charm of his personality into inter- 
national politics ; and like a splendid prodigal, he spent with- 
out stint of his husbanded store of strength in the interests of 
justice and humanity. 1 And it was out of this enriched experi- 
ence that he was giving us Weir of Ilermiston, which promised 
to be his masterpiece, when the end came that December even- 
ing in 1894. The next day, he was buried above his Yailima 
home on the summit of the Yaea mountain, far away from the 
graves of his fathers. There they erected to him a rude monu- 
ment, and engraved on it his own “ Requiem ” : — 

“ Under the wide and starry sky, 

Dig the grave and let me lie, 

Glad did I live and gladly die, 

And I laid me down with a will. 

“ This be the verse you grave for me : 

Here lie lies where lie longed to be ; 

Home is the sailor, home from sea, 

And the hunter home from the hill.” 

1 See “ Letters to The Times ” ; A Footnote to History ; also the 
Letters of this period . 


INTRODUCTION 


xxviii 


SUBJECTS FOB STUDY AND COMPOSITION 

1. Why I like (or dislike) Treasure Island. 

2. What piece of description do you like best, and why ? 

3. Give your appreciation of Jim Hawkins ; also of Dick Johnson. 

4. Make an analysis of the character of John Silver. 

5. “Nobody minds Ben Gunn; dead or alive, nobody minds 

him.” Do you, and why ? 

6. The parrot in Treasure Island and in Robinson Crusoe. 

7. What uses have the snatches of song in this tale ? Compare 

their effect with the effect produced by song in other books 
of your reading. See note on page 221. 

8. Do the buccaneers all act consistently with Israel Hands’s 

dictum, “I never seen good come o’ goodness yet”? 
Make your point clear by an analysis of their conduct. 

9. Compare Billy Bones’s conduct in the inn with that of the 

buccaneer’s in Irving’s “ Wolfert Webber” ( Tales of a 
Traveller). 

10. Compare “ Flint’s pointer ” and the treasure hunt with the 
experience of the treasure hunters in Poe’s The Cold-Bug. 


BIBLIOGRAPHY 

The Works of Robert Louis Stevenson, published in twenty-five 
volumes by Charles Scribner’s Sons, contain, besides the books 
issued during the author’s lifetime, the posthumous St. Ives and 
Weir of Hermiston. “ The Thistle Edition ” (subscription edition) 
by the same publishers contains, besides all of the author’s collected 
writings, The Vailima Letters (two volumes) and The Letters of 
Robert Louis Stevenson (two volumes), both edited by Sidney 
Colvin, and The Life of Robert Louis Stevenson by Graham Bal- 
four ; although the Letters and the Life may be had separately. 

Other biographies that may be found helpful are : Robert Louis 
Stevenson by T. Cope Cornford (Dodd, Mead and Company) ; 
Robert Louis Stevenson (Famous Scots Series) by Margaret M. 
Black (Charles Scribner’s Sons) ; Robert Louis Stevenson : A Life 
in Criticism by H. Bellyse Baildon (A. Wessels & Co.) ; and Sid- 
ney Colvin’s outline in The Dictionary of National Biography. 


BIBLIOGRAPHY 


XXIX 


Studies on Stevenson that are to be commended are : Robert 
Louis Stevenson by Walter Raleigh (Edward Arnold) ; Stevenson's 
Attitude to Life by John Franklin Genung (Thomas Y. Crowell 
and Company) ; and “Stevenson’s Philosophy of Life” in Phi- 
losophy and Life by J. H. Muirhead (Macmillan and Company). 
In this connection may be studied with profit The Art of Fiction 
by Walter Besant and Henry James (Cupples, Upham and Com- 
pany) : the two papers that called from Stevenson “A Humble 
Remonstrance” ( Memories and Portraits ), which, together with 
“A Gossip on Romance” (same volume), contains his theory of 
this art. 

Reference is given below to a few of the more helpful and acces- 
sible of the many magazine articles on Stevenson; “Personal 
Recollections” by Edmund Gosse ( Century Magazine , 50:447); 
“Recollections” by Andrew Lang ( North American Review , 
160 : 185) ; “The Art of Stevenson ” by G. W. T. Omond ( North 
American Review , 171 : 348) ; “Characteristics” by J. A. McCulloch 
( Westminster Review , 149:631); “Portraits,” etc. (McClure's 
Magazine , 4 : 274) ; “Memorial Addresses” (The Critic , 26 : 29) ; 
“Stevenson at Play” by Lloyd Osbourne (Scribner's Magazine , 
24 : 709) ; and critiques by Stephen Gwynn (Fortnightly Review, 
56:776, also 63:561), by Leslie Stephen (National Review for 
1902), by Henry James (Century Magazine, 35:869, also North 
American Review, 170:61), by C. T. Copeland (Atlantic Monthly, 
75 : 537), and by unknown authors (Edinburgh Review, 182 : 106, 
and Quarterly Review , 180 : 324). 


TO THE HESITATING PUB C HA SEE 


If sailor tales to sailor tunes, 

Storm and adventure, heat and cold, N 
If schooners, islands, and maroons 0 
And Buccaneers 0 and buried Gold, 
And all the old romance , retold 
Exactly in the ancient way, 

Can please, as me they pleased of old, 

The wiser youngsters of to-day : 

— So be it, and fall on! If not, 

If studious youth no longer crave, 

His ancient appetites forgot, 

Kingston, or Ballantyne ° the brave, 

Or Cooper 0 of the wood and wave; 

So be it, also ! And may I 
And all my pirates share the grave 
Where these and their creations lie ! 




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TREASURE ISLAND 


PART I 

\ 

THE OLD BUCCANEER 

CHAPTER I 

THE OLD SEA DOG AT THE “ADMIRAL BENBOW ” 

Squire Trelawney , 0 Dr. Livesey, and the rest of these gen- 
tlemen having asked me to write down the whole particulars about 
Treasure Island, from the beginning to the end, keeping noth- 
ing back but the bearings of the island, and that only because 
there is still treasure not yet lifted, I take up my pen in the 
year of grace 17 — ,° and go back to the time when my father 
kept the “ Admiral Benbow ” inn, and the brown old seaman, 
with the sabre cut, first took up his lodging under our roof. 

I remember him as if it were yesterday, as he came plodding 
to the inn door, his sea chest following behind him in a hand- 
barrow ; a tall, strong, heavy, nut-brown man° ; his tarry pig- 
tail falling over the shoulders of his soiled blue coat ; his hands 
ragged and scarred, with black, broken nails ; and the sabre cut 
across one cheek, a dirty, livid white. I remember him looking 
round the cove and whistling to himself as he did so, and then 
breaking out in that old sea-song that he sang so often after- 
wards : — 

t 

“ Fifteen men on the dead man’s chest — 

Yo-ho-ho, and a bottle of rum! ”° 

1 


B 


2 


TREASURE ISLAND 


in the high, old tottering voice that seemed to have been tuned 
and broken at the capstan bars . 0 Then he rapped on the door 
with a bit of stick like a handspike that he carried, and when 
my father appeared, called roughly for a glass of rum. This, 
when it was brought to him, he drank slowly, like a con- 
noisseur , 0 lingering on the taste, and still looking about him at 
the cliffs and up at our signboard. 

“ This is a handy cove,” says he, at length ; “ and a pleasant 
sittyated grog-shop. Much company, mate ? ” 

My father told him no, very little company, the more was the 
pity. 

“Well, then,” said he, “this is the berth for me. Here you, 
matey,” he cried to the man who trundled the barrow ; “ bring 
up alongside and help up my chest. I’ll stay here a bit,” he . 
continued. “ I’m a plain man ; rum and bacon and eggs is ■ 
what I want, and that head up there for to watch ships off 1 ! 
What you mought call me? You mought call me captain. 
Oh, I see what you’re at — there;” and he threw down three 
or four gold pieces on the threshold. “You can tell me when 
I’ve worked through that,” says he, looking as fierce as a 
commander. 

And, indeed, bad as his clothes were, and coarsely as he spoke, 
he had none of the appearance of a man who sailed before the 
mast ; but seemed like a mate or skipper, accustomed to be 
obeyed or to strike. The man who came with the barrow told us 
the mail had set him down the morning before at the “ Royal 
George ; ” that he had inquired what inns there were along the 
coast, and hearing ours well spoken of, I suppose, and described 
as lonely, had chosen it from the others for his place of resi- 
dence. And that was all we could learn of our guest. 

He was a very silent man by custom. All day he hung round 
the cove, or upon the cliffs, with a brass telescope ; all evening 
he sat in a corner of the parlour next the fire, and drank rum 
and water very strong. Mostly he would not speak when 


THE OLD SEA DOG AT THE u ADMIRAL BEHBOW” 3 


spoken to ; only look up sudden and fierce, and blow through 
his nose like a fog-horn ; and we and the people who came 
about our house soon learned to let him be. Every day, when 
he came back from his stroll, he would ask if any seafaring men 
had gone by along the road ? At first we thought it was the 
want of company of his own kind that made him ask this ques- 
tion; but at last we began to see he was desirous to avoid 
% them. When a seaman put up at the “ Admiral Benbow ” (as 
now and then some did, making by the coast road for Bristol), 0 
he would look in at him through the curtained door before he 
entered the parlour; and he was always sure to be as silent as 
a mouse when any such was present. For me, at least, there 
was no secret about the matter ; for I was, in a way, a sharer 
in his alarms. He had taken me aside one day, and promised 
me a silver fourpenny on the first of every month if I would 
only keep my “ weather-eye open for a seafaring man with one 
leg,” and let him know the moment he appeared. Often 
enough, when the first of the month came round, and I applied 
to him for my wage, he would only blow through his nose at 
me, and stare me down ; but before the week was out he was 
sure to think better of it, bring me my fourpenny piece, and 
repeat his orders to look out for “ the seafaring man with one 
leg.” 

How that personage haunted my dreams, I need scarcely tell 
you. On stormy nights, when the wind shook the four corners 
of the house, and the surf roared along the cove and up the 
cliffs, I would see him in a thousand forms, and with a thou- 
sand diabolical expressions. Now the leg would be cut off at 
the knee, now at the hip ; now he was a monstrous kind of a 
creature who had never had but the one leg, and that in the 
middle of his body. To see him leap and run and pursue me 
over hedge and ditch was the worst of nightmares. And alto- 
gether I paid pretty dear for my monthly fourpenny piece, in 
the shape of these abominable fancies. 


4 


TREASURE ISLAND 


But though I was so terrified by the idea of the seafaring man 
with one leg, I was far less afraid of the captain himself than 
anybody else who knew him. There were nights when he took 
a deal more rum and water than his head would carry ; and then 
he would sometimes sit and sing his wicked, old, wild sea-songs, 
minding nobody ; but sometimes he would call for glasses round, 
and force all the trembling company to listen to his stories or bear 
a chorus to his singing. Often I have heard the house shaking 
with “ Yo-ho-ho, and a bottle of rum ; ” all the neighbours join- 
ing in for dear life, with the fear of death upon them, and each 
singing louder than the other, to avoid remark. For in these 
fits he was the most over-riding companion ever known ; he 
would slap his hand on the table for silence all round ; he 
would fly up in a passion of anger at a question, or sometimes 
because none was put, and so he judged the company was not 
following his story. Nor would he allow anyone to leave the 
inn till he had drunk himself sleepy and reeled off to bed. 

His stories were- what frightened people worst of all. Dread- 
ful stories they were * about hanging, and walking the plank, 
and storms at sea, and the Dry Tortugas , 0 and wild deeds and 
places on the Spanish Main . 0 By his own account he must 
have lived his life among some of the wickedest men that God 
ever allowed upon the sea ; and the language in which he told 
these stories shocked our plain country people almost as much 
as the crimes that he described. My father was always saying 
the inn would be ruined, for people would soon cease coming 
there to be tyrannised over and put down, and sent shivering 
to their beds ; but I really believe his presence did us good. 
People were frightened at the time, but on looking back they 
rather liked it ; it was a fine excitement in a quiet country life ; 
and there was even a party of the younger men who pretended 
to admire him, calling him a “ true sea dog,” and a “real old 
salt,” and such like names, and saying there was the sort of man 
that made England terrible at sea.° 


THE OLD SEA DOG AT THE u ADMIRAL BENJBOW” 5 


In one way, indeed, he bade fair to ruin us ; for he kept on 
staying week after week, and at last month after month, so that 
all the money had been long exhausted, and still my father 
never plucked up the heart to insist on having more. If ever 
he mentioned it, the captain blew through his nose so loudly, 
that you might say he roared, and stared my poor father out of 
the room. I have seen him wringing his hands after such a 
^ rebuff, and I am sure the annoyance and the terror he lived in 
must have greatly hastened his early and unhappy death. 

All the time he lived with us the captain made no change 
whatever in his dress but to buy some stockings from a hawker. 
One of the cocks of his hat having fallen down, he let it hang 
from that day forth, though it was a great annoyance when it 
blew. I remember the appearance of his coat, which he patched 
himself up-stairs in his room, and which, before the end, was 
nothing but patches. He never wrote or received a letter, and 
he never spoke with any but the neighbours, and with these, 
for the most part, only when drunk on rum. The great sea- 
chest none of us had ever seen open. 

He was only once crossed, and that was towards the end, 
when my poor father was far gone in a decline that took him 
off. Dr. Livesey came late one afternoon to see the patient, 
took a bit of dinner from my mother, and went into the parlour 
to smoke a pipe until his horse should come down from the ham- 
let, for we had no stabling at the old “ Benbow.” I followed 
him in, and I remember observing the contrast the neat, bright 
doctor, with his powder as white as snow, and his bright black 
eyes and pleasant manners, made with the coltish country folk, 
and above all, with that filthy, heavy, bleared scarecrow of a 
pirate of ours, sitting far gone in rum, with his arms on the 
table. Suddenly he — the captain, that is — began to pipe up 
his eternal song : — 

“ Fifteen men on the dead man’s chest — 

Yo-ho-ho, and a bottle of rum ! 


6 


TREASURE ISLAND 


Drink and the devil had done for the rest — 

Yo-ho-ho, and a bottle of rum ! ” 

At first I had supposed “ the dead man’s chest ” to be that 
identical big box of his up-stairs in the front room, and the 
thought had been mingled in my nightmares with that of the 
one-legged seafaring man. But by this time we had all long 
ceased to pay any particular notice to the song ; it was new, 
that night, to nobody but Dr. Livesey, and on him I observed 
it did not produce an agreeable effect, for he looked up for a 
moment quite angrily before he went on with his talk to old 
Taylor, the gardener, on a new cure for the rheumatics. In the 
meantime, the captain gradually brightened up at his own 
music, and at last flapped his hand upon the table before him 
in a way we all knew to mean — silence. The voices stopped 
at once, all but Dr. Livesey’s ; he went on as before, speaking 
clear and kind, and drawing briskly at his pipe between every 
word or two. The captain glared at him for a while, flapped 
his hand again, glared still harder, and at last broke out with 
a villanous, low oath : “ Silence, there, between decks ! ” 

“Were you addressing me, sir?” says the doctor; and when 
the ruffian had told him, with another oath, that this was so, 
“ I have only one thing to say to you, sir,” replies the doctor, 
“ that if you keep on drinking rum, the world will soon be quit 
of a very dirty scoundrel ! ” 

The old fellow’s fury was awful. He sprang to his feet, drew 
and opened a sailor’s clasp-knife, and, balancing it open on the 
palm of his hand, threatened to pin the doctor to the wall. 

The doctor never so much as moved. He spoke to him, as 
before, over his shoulder, and in the same tone of voice ; rather 
high, so that all in the room might hear, but perfectly calm and 
steady : — 

“ If you do not put that knife this instant in your pocket, I 
promise, upon my honour, you shall hang at next assizes.” 


THE OLD SEA DOG AT THE “ ADMIRAL BENBOW” 7 


Then followed a battle of looks between them ; but the cap- 
tain soon knuckled under, put up his weapon, and resumed his 
seat, grumbling like a beaten dog. 

“ And now, sir,” continued the doctor, “ since I now know 
there’s such a' fellow in my district, you may count I’ll have an 
eye upon you day and night. I’m not a doctor only ; I’m a 
magistrate ; and if I catch a breath of complaint against you, 
if it’s only for a piece of incivility like to-night’s, I’ll take 
effectual means to have you hunted down and routed out of 
this. Let that suffice.” 

Soon after Dr. Livesey’s horse came to the door, and he rode 
away; but the captain held his peace that evening, and for 
many evenings to come. 


CHAPTER II 


BLACK DOG APPEARS AND DISAPPEARS 

It was not very long after this that there occurred the first 
of the mysterious events that rid us at last of the captain, 
though not, as you will see, of his affairs. It was a bitter 
cold winter, with long, hard frosts and heavy gales ; and it was 
plain from the first that my poor father was little likely to see 
the spring. He sank daily, and my mother and I had all the 
inn upon our hands ; and were kept busy enough, without pay- 
ing much regard to our unpleasant guest. 

It was one January morning, very early — a pinching, frosty 
morning — the cove all grey with hoar-frost, the ripple lapping 
softly on the stones, the sun still low and only touching the hill- 
tops and shining far to seaward. The captain had risen earlier 
than usual, and set out down the beach, his cutlass swinging 
under the broad skirts of the old blue coat, his brass telescope 
under his arm, his hat tilted back upon his head. I remember 
his breath hanging like smoke in his wake as he strode off, and 
the last sound I heard of him, as he turned the big rock, was a 
loud snort of indignat ion, as though his mind was still running 
upon Dr. Livesey. 

Well, mother was upstairs with father ; and I was laying the 
breakfast-table against the captain’s return, when the parlour 
door opened, and a man stepped in on whom I had never set 
my eyes before. He was a pale, tallowy creature, wanting two 
fingers of the left hand \ and, though he wore a cutlass, he did 

8 


BLACK DOG APPEARS AND DISAPPEARS 9 

not look much like a fighter. I had always my eye open for 
seafaring men, with one leg or two, and I remember this one 
puzzled me. He was not sailorly, and yet he had a smack of 
the sea about him too. 

I asked him what was for his service, and he said he would 
take rum ; but as I was going out of the room to fetch it he 
sat down upon a table and motioned me to draw near. I paused 
where I was with my napkin in my hand. 

“ Come here, sonny,” says he. “ Come nearer here.” I took 
a step nearer. 

“ Is this here table for my mate Bill ? ” he asked, with a kind 
of leer. 

I told him I did not know his mate Bill ; and this was for 
a person who stayed in our house, whom we called the captain. 

“ Well,” said he, “ my mate Bill would be called the captain, 
as like as not. He has a cut on one cheek, and a mighty pleas- 
ant way with him, particularly in drink, has my mate Bill. 
We’ll put it, for argument like, that your captain has a cut on 
one cheek — and we’ll put it, if you like, that that cheek’s the 
right one. Ah, well ! I told you. Now, is my mate Bill in this 
here house 1 ” 

I told him he was out walking. 

“ Which way, sonny ? Which way is he gone ? ” 

And when I had pointed out the rock and told him how the 
captain was likely to return, and how soon, and answered a few 
other questions, “Ah,” said he, “this’ll be as good as drink to 
my mate Bill.” 

The expression of his face as he said these words was not at 
all pleasant, and I had my own reasons for thinking that the 
stranger was mistaken, even supposing he meant what he said. 
But it was no affair of mine, I thought • and, besides, it was 
difficult to know what to do. The stranger kept hanging about 
just inside the inn door, peering round the corner like a cat 
waiting for a mouse. Once I stepped out myself into the road, 


10 


TREASURE ISLAND 


but he immediately called me back, and, as I did not obey quick 
enough for his fancy, a most horrible change came over his tal- 
lowy face, and he ordered me in, with an oath that made me 
jump. As soon as I was back again he returned to his former 
manner, half fawning, half sneering, patted me on the shoulder, 
told me I was a good boy, and he had taken quite a fancy to 
me. “ I have a son of my own,” said he, “ as like you as two 
blocks, and he’s all the pride of my ’art. But the great thing 
for boys is discipline, sonny — discipline. Now, if you had 
sailed along of Bill, you wouldn’t have stood there to be spoke 
to twice — not you. That was never Bill’s way, nor the way of 
sich as sailed with him. And here, sure enough, is my mate 
Bill, with a spyglass under his arm, bless his old ’art, to be sure. 
You and me’ll just go back into the parlour, sonny, and get 
behind the door, and we’ll give Bill a little surprise — bless his 
’art, I say again.” 

So saying, the stranger backed along with me into the par- 
lour, and put me behind him in the corner, so that we were both 
hidden by the open door. I was very uneasy and alarmed, as 
you may fancy, and it rather added to my fears to observe that 
the stranger was certainly frightened himself. He cleared the 
hilt of his cutlass and loosened the blade in the sheath ; and 
all the time we were waiting there he kept swallowing as if he 
felt what we used to call a lump in the throat. 

At last in strode the captain, slammed the door behind him, 
without looking to the right or left, and marched straight across 
the room to where his breakfast awaited him. 

“ Bill,” said the stranger, in a voice that I thought he had 
tried to make bold and big. 

The captain spun round on his heel and fronted us ; all the 
brown had gone out of his face, and even his nose was blue ; 
he had the look of a man who sees a ghost, or the evil one, or 
something worse, if anything can be ; and, upon my word, I felt 
sorry to see him, all in a moment, turn so old and sick. 


BLACK DOG APPEARS AND DISAPPEARS 


11 


“ Come, Bill, you know me : you know an old shipmate, Bill, 
surely, 5 ’ said the stranger. 

The captain made a sort of gasp. 

“ Black Dog ! ” said he. 

“ And who else ? ” returned the other, getting more at his 
ease. “ Black Dog as ever was, come for to see his old ship- 
mate Billy, at the ‘ Admiral Benbow 5 inn. Ah, Bill, Bill, we 
have seen a sight of times, us two, since I lost them two 
talons,” holding up his mutilated hand. 

“ Now, look here,” said the captain ; “ you’ve run me down ; 
here I am ; well, then, speak up : what is it ? ” 

“ That’s you, Bill,” returned Black Dog, “you’re in the right 
of it, Billy. I’ll have a glass of rum from this dear child here, 
as I’ve took such a liking to ; and we’ll sit down, if you please, 
and talk square, like old shipmates.” 

When I returned with the rum, they were already seated on 
either side of the captain’s breakfast table — Black Dog next to 
the door, and sitting sideways, so as to have one eye on his old 
shipmate, and one, as I thought, on his retreat. 

He bade me go, and leave the door wide open. “ None of 
your keyholes for me, sonny,” he said ; and I left them together, 
and retired into the bar. 

For a long time, though I certainly did my best to listen, I 
could hear nothing but a low gabbling ; but at last the voices 
began to grow higher, and I could pick up a word or two, mostly 
oaths, from the captain. 

“No, no, no, no ; and an end of it ! ” he cried once. And 
again, “If it comes to swinging, swing all, say I.” 

Then all of a sudden there was a tremendous explosion of oaths 
and other noises — the chair and table went over in a lump, a 
clash of steel followed, and then a cry of pain, and the next 
instant I saw Black Dog in full flight, and the captain hotly 
pursuing, both with drawn cutlasses, and the former streaming 
blood from the left shoulder. Just at the door, the captain 


12 


TREASURE ISLAND 


aimed at the fugitive one last tremendous cut, which would 
certainly have split him to the chine had it not been intercepted 
by our big signboard of Admiral Benbow. You may see the 
notch on the lower side of the frame to this day. 

That blow was the last of the battle. Once out upon the 
road, Black Dog, in spite of his wound, showed a wonderful 
clean pair of heels, and disappeared over the edge of the hill in 
half a minute. The captain, for his part, stood staring at the 
signboard like a bewildered man. Then he passed his hand 
over his eyes several times, and at last turned back into the 
house. 

“ Jim,” says he, “ rum ; ” and as he spoke, he reeled a little, 
and caught himself with one hand against the wall. 

“ Are you hurt 1 ” cried I. 

“ Rum,” he repeated. “ I must get away from here. Rum ! 
rum ! ” 

I ran to fetch it ; but I was quite unsteadied by all that had 
fallen out, and I broke one glass and fouled the tap, and while 
I was still getting in my own way, I heard a loud fall in the 
parlour, and, running in, beheld the captain lying full length 
upon the floor. At the same instant my mother, alarmed by 
the cries and fighting, came running down-stairs to help me. 
Between us we raised his head. He was breathing very loud 
and hard ; but his eyes were closed, and his face a horrible 
colour. 

“Dear, deary me,” cried my mother, “what a disgrace upon 
the house ! And your poor father sick ! ” 

In the meantime, we had no idea what to do to help the 
captain, nor any other thought but that he had got his death- 
hurt in the scuffle with the stranger. I got the rum, to be 
sure, and tried to put it down his throat ; but his teeth were 
tightly shut, and his jaws as strong as iron. It was a happy 
relief for us when the door opened and Dr. Livesey came in, on 
his visit to my father. 


BLACK DOG APPEARS AND DISAPPEARS 13 


“Oh, doctor,” we cried, “what shall we do? Where is he 
wounded ? ” 

“Wounded? A fiddle-stick’s end !” said the doctor. “No 
more wounded than you or I. The man has had a stroke, as I 
warned him. Now, Mrs. Hawkins, just you run up-stairs to 
your husband, and tell him, if possible, nothing about it. For 
my part, I must do my best to save this fellow’s trebly worth- 
less life ; and Jim here will get me a basin.” 

When I got back with the basin, the doctor had already 
ripped up the captain’s sleeve, and exposed his great sinewy 
arm. It was tattooed in several places. “ Here’s luck,” “ A 
fair wind,” and “ Billy Bones his fancy,” were very neatly and 
clearly executed on the forearm ; and up near the shoulder 
there was a sketch of a gallows and a man hanging from it 
— done, as I thought, with great spirit. 

“ Prophetic,” said the doctor, touching this picture with 
his finger. “And now, Master Billy Bones, if that be your 
name, we’ll have a look at the colour of your blood. Jim,” he 
said, “are you afraid of blood ? ” 

“No, sir,” said I. 

“Well, then,” said he, “you hold the basin;” and with 
that he took his lancet and opened a vein. 

A great deal of blood was taken before the captain opened his 
eyes and looked mistily about him. First he recognised the 
doctor with an unmistakable frown ; then his glance fell upon 
me, and he looked relieved. But suddenly his colour changed, 
and he tried to raise himself, crying : — 

“ Where’s Black Dog ? ” 

“There is no Black Dog here,” said the doctor, “except 
what you have on your own back. You have been drinking 
rum ; you have had a stroke, precisely as I told you ; and I 
have just, very much against my own will, dragged you headfore- 
most out of the grave. Now, Mr. Bones — ” 

“ That’s not my name,” he interrupted. 


14 


TREASURE ISLAND 


“ Much I care,” returned the doctor. “ It’s the name of a 
buccaneer of my acquaintance ; and I call you by it for the sake 
of shortness, and what I have to say to you is this : one glass of 
rum won’t kill you, but if you take one you’ll take another and 
another, and I stake my wig if you don’t break off short, you’ll 
die — do you understand that? — die, and go to your own 
place, like the man in the Bible. Come, now, make an effort. 
I’ll help you to your bed for once.” 

Between us, with much trouble, we managed to hoist him 
up-stairs, and laid him on his bed, where his head fell back on 
the pillow, as if he were almost fainting. 

“ Now, mind you,” said the doctor, “ I clear my conscience 
— the name of rum for you is death.” 

And with that he went off to see my father, taking me with 
him by the arm. 

“ This is nothing,” he said, as soon as he had closed the door. 
“ I have drawn blood enough to keep him quiet awhile ; he 
should lie for a week where he is — that is the best thing for 
him and you; but another stroke would settle him.°” 


CHAPTER III 


THE BLACK SPOT 

About noon I stopped at the captain’s door with some cool- 
ing drinks and medicines. He was lying very much as we had 
left him, only a little higher, and he seemed both weak and 
excited. 

“ Jim,” he said, “ you’re the only one here that’s worth 
anything ; and you know I’ve been always good to you. 
Never a month but I’ve given you a silver fourpenny for your- 
self. And now you see, mate, I’m pretty low, and deserted by 
all ; and Jim, you’ll bring me one noggin 0 of rum, now, won’t 
you, matey ? ” 

“ The doctor — ” I began. 

But he broke in cursing the doctor, in a feeble voice, but 
heartily. “Doctors is all swabs, 0 ” he said ; “ and that doctor 
there, why, what do he know about seafaring men ? I been 
in places as hot as pitch, and mates dropping round with 
Yellow Jack, and the blessed land a-heaving like the sea with 
earthquakes — what do the doctor know of lands like that ? — 
and I lived on rum, I tell you. It’s been meat and drink, and 
man and wife, to me ; and if I’m not to have my rum now I’m 
a poor old hulk on a lee shore , 0 my blood’ll be on you, Jim, 
and that Doctor swab ; ” and he ran on again for a while with 
curses. “ Look, Jim, how my fingers fidges, 0 ” he continued, in 
the pleading tone. “ I can’t keep ’em still, not I. I haven’t 
had a drop this blessed day. That doctor’s a fool, I tell you. 

15 


16 


TREASURE ISLAND 


If I don’t have a drain o’ rum, Jim, I’ll have the horrors ; I 
seen some on ’em already. I seen old Flint in the corner 
there, behind you ; as plain as print, I seen him ; and if I get 
the horrors, I’m a man that has lived rough, and I’ll raise 
Cain. Your doctor hisself said one glass wouldn’t hurt me. 
I’ll give you a golden guinea for a noggin, Jim.” 

He was growing more and more excited, and this alarmed 
me for my father, who was very low that day, and needed 
quiet ; besides, I was reassured by the doctor’s words, now 
quoted to me, and rather offended by the offer of a bribe. 

“ I want none of your money,” said I, “ but what you owe 
my father. I’ll get you one glass, and no more.” 

When I brought it to him he seized it greedily, and drank 
it out. 

“ Ay, ay,” said he, “ that’s some better, sure enough. And 
now, matey, did that doctor say how long I was to lie here in 
this old berth 1 ” 

“ A week at least,” said I. 

“Thunder!” he cried. “A week! I can’t do that: 
they’d have the black spot on me by then. The lubbers 0 is 
going about to get the wind of me this blessed moment ; lub- 
bers as couldn’t keep what they got, and want to nail what is 
another’s. Is that seamanly behaviour, now, I want to know ? 
But I’m a saving soul. I never wasted good money of mine, 
nor lost it neither ; and I’ll trick ’em again. I’m not afraid 
on ’em. I’ll shake out another reef, matey, and daddle ’em again.” 

As he was thus speaking, he had risen from bed with great diffi- 
culty, holding to my shoulder with a grip that almost made me 
cry out, and moving his legs like so much dead weight. His 
words, spirited as they were in meaning, contrasted sadly with 
the weakness of the voice in which they were uttered. He 
paused when he had got into a sitting position on the edge. 

“ That doctor’s done me,” he murmured. “ My ears is 
singing. Lay me back.” 


THE BLACK SPOT 


17 


Before I could do much to help him he had fallen back again 
to his former place, where he lay for a while silent. 

“Jim,” he said, at length, “you saw that seafaring man 
to-day ? ” 

“ Black Dog ? ” I asked. 

“ Ah ! Black Dog,” says he. “ He’s a bad ’un ; but there’s 
worse that put him on. Now, if I can’t get away nohow, 
and they tip me the black spot, mind you, it’s my old sea-chest 
they’re after; you get on a horse — you can, can’t you? Well, 
then, you get on a horse, and go to — well, yes, I will ! — to 
that eternal Doctor swab, and tell him to pipe all hands — 
magistrates and sich — and he’ll lay ’em aboard at the 
‘ Admiral Benbow ’ — all old Flint’s crew, man and boy, all on 
’em that’s left. I was first mate, I was, old Flint’s first mate, 
and I’m the on’y one as knows the place. He gave it me 
at Savannah, when he lay a-dying, like as if I was to now, you 
see. But you won’t peach unless they get the black spot on 
me, or unless you see that Black Dog again, or a seafaring man 
with one leg, Jim — him above all.” 

“ But what is -the black spot, captain ? ” I asked. 

“ That’s a summons, mate. I’ll tell you if they get that. 
But you keep your weather-eye open, Jim, and I’ll share with 
you equals, upon my honour.” 

He wandered a little longer, his voice growing weaker ; but 
soon after I had given him his medicine, which he took like a 
child, with the remark, “ If ever a seaman wanted drugs, it’s 
me,” he fell at last into a heavy, swoon-like sleep, in which I 
left him. What I should have done had all gone well I do not 
know. Probably I should have told the whole story to the 
doctor ; for I was in mortal fear lest the captain should repent 
of his confessions and make an end of me. But as things fell 
out, my poor father died quite suddenly that evening, which 
j put all other matters on one side. Our natural distress, the 
| visits of the neighbours, the arranging of the funeral, and all 


c 


18 


TREASURE ISLAND 


the work of the inn to be carried on in the meanwhile, kept me 
so busy that I had scarcely time to think of the captain, far 
less to be afraid of him. 

He got down-stairs next morning, to be sure, and had his meals 
as usual, though he ate little, and had more, I am afraid, than 
his usual supply of rum, for he helped himself out of the bar, 
scowling and blowing through his nose, and no one dared to 
cross him. On the night before the funeral he was as drunk 
as ever ; and it was shocking, in that house of mourning, to 
hear him singing away at his ugly old sea-song ; but, weak as 
he was, we were all in the fear of death for him, and the doc- 
tor was suddenly taken up with a case many miles away, and 
was never near the house after my father’s death. I have said 
the captain was weak ; and indeed he seemed rather to grow 
weaker than regain his strength. He clambered up and down- 
stairs, and went from the parlour to the bar and back again, and 
sometimes put his nose out of doors to smell the sea, holding on 
to the walls as he went for support, and breathing hard and fast 
like a man on a steep mountain. He never particularly ad- 
dressed me, and it is my belief he had as good as forgotten his 
confidences ; but his temper was more flighty, and, allowing for 
his bodily weakness, more violent than ever. He had an alarm- 
ing way now when he was drunk of drawing his cutlass and lay- 
ing it bare before him on the table. But, with all that, he 
minded people less, and seemed shut up in his own thoughts 
and rather wandering. Once, for instance, to our extreme won- 
der, he piped up to a different air, a kind of country love-song , 0 
that he must have learned in his youth before he had begun to 
follow the sea. 

So things passed until, the day after the funeral, and about 
three o’clock of a bitter, foggy, frosty afternoon, I was standing at 
the door for a moment, full of sad thoughts about my father, when 
I saw someone drawing slowly near along the road. He was 
plainly blind, for he tapped before him with a stick, and wore a 


THE BLACK SPOT 


19 


great green shade over his eyes and nose ; and he was hunched, 
as if with age or weakness, and wore a huge old tattered sea- 
cloak with a hood, that made him appear positively deformed. 
I never saw in my life a more dreadful looking figure He 
stopped a little from the inn, and, raising his voice in an odd 
sing-song, addressed the air in front of him : — 

“ Will any kind friend inform a poor blind man, 0 who has lost 
the precious sight of his eyes in the gracious defence of his na- 
tive country, England, and God bless King George ! — where or 
in what part of this country he may now be ? ” 

“You are at the ‘Admiral Benbow,’ Black Hill Cove, my 
good man,” said I. 

“ I hear a voice,” said he — “a young voice. Will you give 
me your hand, my kind young friend, and lead me in 1 ” 

I held out my hand, and the horrible, soft-spoken, eyeless 
creature gripped it in a moment like a vice. I was so much 
startled that I struggled to withdraw ; but the blind man pulled 
me close up to him with a single action of his arm. 

“ Now, boy,” he said, “ take me in to the captain.” 

“ Sir,” said I, “ upon my word I dare not.” 

“ Oh,” he sneered, “ that’s it ! Take me in straight, or I’ll 
break your arm.” 

And he gave it, as he spoke, a wrench, that made me cry 
out. 

“Sir,” said I, “it is for yourself I mean. The captain is 
not what he used to be. He sits with a drawn cutlass. An- 
other gentleman — ” 

“ Come, now, march,” interrupted he ; and I never heard a 
voice so cruel, and cold, and ugly as that blind man’s. It 
cowed me more than the pain ; and I began to obey him at 
once, walking straight in at the door and towards the parlour, 
where our sick old buccaneer was sitting, dazed with" rum. The 
blind man clung close to me, holding me in one iron fist, and 
leaning almost more of his weight on me than I could carry. 


20 


TREASURE ISLAND 


“ Lead me straight up to him, and when I’m in view, cry out, 

‘ Here’s a friend for you, Bill.’ If you don’t, I’ll do this ; ” 
and with that he gave me a twitch that I thought would have 
made me faint. Between this and that, I was so utterly terri- 
fied of the blind beggar that I forgot my terror of the captain, 
and as I opened the parlour door, cried out the words he had 
ordered in a trembling voice. 

The poor captain raised his eyes, and at one look the rum 
went out of him, and left him staring sober. The expression 
of his face was not so much of terror as of mortal sickness. He 
made a movement to rise, but I do not believe he had enough 
force left in his body. 

“Now, Bill, sit where you are,” said the beggar. “If I 
can’t see, I can hear a finger stirring. Business is business. 
Hold out your left hand. Boy, take his left hand by the wrist, 
and bring it near to my right.” 

We both obeyed him to the letter, and I saw him pass some- 
thing from the hollow of the hand that held his stick into the 
palm of the captain’s, which closed upon it instantly. 

“ And now that’s done,” said the blind man ; and at the 
words he suddenly left hold of me, and, with incredible accuracy 
and nimbleness, skipped out of the parlour and into the road, 
where, as I still stood motionless, I could hear his stick go tap- 
tap-tapping into the distance. 

It was some time before either I or the captain seemed to 
gather our senses ; but at length, and about at the same mo- 
ment, I released his wrist, which I was still holding, and he 
drew in his hand and looked sharply into the palm. 

“ Ten o’clock ! ” he cried. “ Six hours. We’ll do them 
yet ; ” and he sprang to his feet. 

Even as he did so, he reeled, put his hand to his throat, stood 
swaying for a moment, and then, with a peculiar sound, fell 
from his whole height face foremost to the floor. 

I ran to him at once, calling to my mother. But haste was 


THE BLACK SPOT 


21 


all in vain. The captain had been struck dead by thundering 
apoplexy. It is a curious thing to understand, for I had cer- 
tainly never liked the man, though of late I had begun to pity 
him, but as soon as I saw that he was dead, I burst into a 
flood of tears. It was the second death I had known, and the 
sorrow of the first was still fresh in my heart. 


T 

l 


CHAPTER IV 


THE SEA-CHEST 

I lost no time, of course, in telling my mother all that I 
knew, and perhaps should have told her long before, and we 
saw ourselves at once in a difficult and dangerous position. 
Some of the man’s money — if he had any — - was certainly due 
to us ; but it was not likely that our captain’s shipmates, above 
all the two specimens seen by me, Black Dog and the blind 
beggar, would be inclined to give up their booty in payment of 
the dead man’s debts. The captain’s order to mount at once 
and ride for Dr. Livesey would have left my mother alone and 
unprotected, which was not to be thought of. Indeed, it seemed 
impossible for either of us to remain much longer in the house : 
the fall of coals in the kitchen grate, the very ticking of the 
clock, filled us with alarms. The neighbourhood, to our ears, 
seemed haunted by approaching footsteps ; and what between 
the dead body of the captain on the parlour floor, and the 
thought of that detestable blind beggar hovering near at hand, 
and ready to return, there were moments when, as the saying 
goes, I jumped in my skin for terror. Something must speedily 
be resolved upon ; and it occurred to us at last to go forth to- 
gether and seek help in the neighbouring hamlet. No sooner 
said than done. Bareheaded, as we were, we ran out at once 
in the gathering evening and the frosty fog. 

The hamlet lay not many hundred yards away, though out of 
view, on the other side of the next cove ; and what greatly 

22 


THE SEA-CHEST 


23 


encouraged me, it was in an opposite direction from that whence 
the blind man had made his appearance, and whither he had 
presumably returned. We were not many minutes on the road, 
though we sometimes' stopped to lay hold of each other and 
hearken. But there was no unusual sound — nothing but the 
low wash of the ripple and the croaking of the inmates of the 
wood. 

It was already candle-light when we reached the hamlet, and 
I shall never forget how much I was cheered to see the yellow 
shine in doors and windows ; but that, as it proved, was the 
best of the help we were likely to get in that quarter. For 
— you would have thought men would have been ashamed of 
themselves — no soul would consent to return with us to the 
“ Admiral Benbow.” The more we told of pur troubles, the 
more — man, woman, and child — they clung to the shelter of 
their houses. The name of Captain Flint, though it was 
strange to me, was well enough known to some there, and car- 
ried a great weight of terror. Some of the men who had been 
to field-work on the far side of the “ Admiral Benbow ” remem- 
bered, besides, to have seen several strangers on the road, and, 
taking them to be smugglers, to have bolted away ; and one at 
least had seen a little lugger 0 in what we called Kitt’s Hole. For 
that matter, anyone who was a comrade of the captain’s was 
enough to frighten them to death. And the short and the long 
of the matter was, that while we could get several who were 
willing enough to ride to Dr. Livesey’s, which lay in another 
direction, not one would help us to defend the inn. 

They say cowardice is infectious ; but then argument is, on 
the other hand, a great emboldener ; and so when each had said 
his say, my mother made them a speech. She would not, she 
declared, lose money that belonged to her fatherless boy ; “if 
none of the rest of you dare,” she said, “Jim and I dare. Back 
we will go, the way we came, and small thanks to you big, 
hulking, chicken-hearted men. We’ll have that chest open, if 


24 


TREASURE ISLAND 


we die for it. And I’ll thank you for that bag, Mrs. Crossley, 
to bring back our lawful money in.” 

Of course, I said I would go with my mother ; and of course 
they all cried out at our foolhardiness ; but even then not a 
man would go along with us. All they would do was to give 
me a loaded pistol, lest we were attacked ; and to promise to 
have horses ready saddled, in case we were pursued on our 
return ; while one lad was to ride forward to the doctor’s in 
search of armed assistance. 

My heart was beating finely when we two set forth in the 
cold night upon this dangerous venture. A full moon was 
beginning to rise and peered redly through the upper edges of 
the fog, and this increased our haste, for it was plain, before we 
came forth again, that all would be bright as day, and our 
departure exposed to the eyes of any watchers. We slipped 
along the hedges, noiseless and swift, nor did we see or hear 
anything to increase our terrors, till, to our relief, the door of 
the “ Admiral Benbow ” had closed behind us. 

I slipped the bolt at once, and we stood and panted for a moment 
in the dark, alone in the house with 'the dead captain’s body. 
Then my mother got a candle in the bar, and, holding each 
other’s hands, we advanced into the parlour. He lay as we had 
left him, on his back, with his eyes open, and one arm stretched 
out. 

“Draw down the blind, Jim,” whispered my mother; “they 
might come and watch outside. And now,” said she, when I 
had done so, “ we have to get the key off that; and who’s to 
touch it, I should like to know ! ” and she gave a kind of sob 
as she said the words. 

I went down on my knees at once. On the floor close to his 
hand there was a little round of paper, blackened on the one 
side. I could not doubt that this was the black spot ; and 
taking it up, I found written on the other side, in a very good, 
clear hand, his short " message : “You have till ten to-night.” 


THE SEA-CHEST 


25 


“ He had till ten, mother,” said I ; and just as I said it, our 
old clock began striking. This sudden noise startled us shock- 
ingly ; but the news was good, for it was only six. 

“Now, Jim,” she said, “ that key.” 

I felt in his pockets, one after another. A few small coins, 
a thimble, and some thread and big needles, a piece of pigtail 
tobacco bitten away at the end, his gully 0 with the crooked 
handle, a pocket compass, and a tinder box, were all that they 
contained, and I began to despair. 

“ Perhaps it’s round his neck,” suggested my mother. 

Overcoming a strong repugnance, I tore open his shirt at the 
neck, and there, sure enough, hanging to a bit of tarry string, 
which I cut with his own gully, we found the key. At this 
triumph we were filled with hope, and hurried up-stairs, with- 
out delay, to the little room where he had slept so long, and 
where his box had stood since the day of his arrival. 

It was like any other seaman’s chest on the outside, the 
initial “ B.” burned on the top of it with a hot iron, and the 
corners somewhat smashed and broken as by long, rough usage. 

“ Give me the key,” said my mother ; and though the lock 
was very stiff* she had turned it and thrown back the lid in a 
twinkling. 

A strong smell of tobacco and tar rose from the interior, but 
nothing was to be seen on the top except a suit of very good 
clothes, carefully brushed and folded. They had never been 
worn, my mother said. Under that, the miscellany began — a 
quadrant, a tin canikin, several sticks of tobacco, two brace of 
very handsome pistols, a piece of bar silver, an old Spanish 
watch, and some other trinkets of little value and mostly of 
foreign make, a pair of compasses mounted with brass, and five 
or six curious West Indian shells. I have often wondered since 
why he should have carried about these shells with him in his 
wandering, guilty, and hunted life. 

In the meantime, we had found nothing of any value but the 


26 


TREASURE ISLAND 


silver and the trinkets, and neither of these were in our way. 
Underneath there was an old boat-cloak, whitened with sea-salt 
on many a harbour-bar. My mother pulled it up with im- 
patience, and there lay before us the last things in the chest, a 
bundle tied up in oilcloth, and looking like papers, aud a canvas 
bag, that gave forth, at a touch, the jingle of gold. 

“I’ll show these rogues that I’m an honest woman,” said 
my mother. “ I’ll have my dues, and not a farthing over. 
Hold Mrs. Crossley’s bag.” And she began to count over the 
amount of the captain’s score from the sailor’s bag into the one 
that I was holding. 

It was a long, difficult business, for the coins were of all 
countries and sizes — doubloons , 0 and louis-d’ors,° and guineas , 0 
and pieces of eight , 0 and I know not what besides, all shaken to- 
gether at random. The guineas, too, were about the scarcest, 
and it was with these only that my mother knew how to make 
her count. 

When we were about half-way through, I suddenly put my 
hand upon her arm ; for I had heard in the silent, frosty air a 
sound that brought my heart into my mouth — the tap-tapping 
of the blind man’s stick upon the frozen road. It grew 
nearer and nearer, while we sat holding our breath. Then it 
struck sharp on the inn door, and then we could hear the 
handle being turned, and the bolt rattling as the wretched being 
tried to enter ; and then there was a long time of silence both 
within and without. At last the tapping re-commenced, and, to 
our indescribable joy and gratitude, died slowly away again until 
it ceased to be heard. 

“ Mother, ” said I, “ take the whole and let’s be going ; ” for 
I was sure the bolted door must have seemed suspicious, and 
would bring the whole hornet’s nest about our ears ; though 
how thankful I was that I had bolted it, none could tell who had 
never met that terrible blind man. 

But mv mother, frightened as she was, would not consent to 


THE SEA-CHEST 


27 


take a fraction more than was due to her, and was obstinately 
unwilling to be content with less. It was not yet seven, she 
said, by a long way ; she knew her rights and she would have 
them ; and she was still arguing with me, when a little low 
whistle sounded a good way off upon the hill. That was enough, 
and more than enough, for both of us. 

“ I’ll take what I have, ” she said, jumping to her feet. 

“ And I’ll take this to square the count,” said I, picking up 
the oilskin packet. 

Next moment we were both groping down-stairs, leaving the 
candle by the empty chest ; and the next we had opened the 
door and were in full retreat. We had not started a moment 
too soon. The fog was rapidly dispersing ; already the moon 
shone quite clear on the high ground on either side ; and it was 
only in the exact bottom of the dell and round the tavern door 
that a thin veil still hung unbroken to conceal the first steps of 
our escape. Far less than half-way to the hamlet, very little 
beyond the bottom of the hill, we must come forth into the 
moonlight. Nor was this all ; for the sound of several foot- 
steps running came already to our ears, and as we looked 
back in their direction, a light tossing to and fro and still 
rapidly advancing, showed that one of the new-comers carried 
a lantern. 

“My dear,” said my mother suddenly, “take the money and 
run on. I am going to faint.” 

This was certainly the end for both of us, I thought. How I 
cursed the cowardice of the neighbours ; how I blamed my poor 
mother for her honesty and her greed, for her past foolhardiness 
and present weakness ! We were just at the little bridge, by 
good fortune ; and I helped her, tottering as she was, to the 
edge of the bank, where, sure enough, she gave a sigh and fell 
on my shoulder. I do not know how I found the strength to 
do it at all, and I am afraid it was roughly done ; but I man- 
aged to drag her down the bank and a little way under the 


28 


TREASURE ISLAND 


arch. Farther I could not move her, for the bridge was too 
low to let me do more than crawl below it. So there we had 
to stay — my mother almost entirely exposed, and both of us 
within earshot of the inn. 


CHAPTER V 


THE LAST OF THE BLIND MAN 

My curiosity, in a sense, was stronger than my fear ; for I 
could not remain where I was, hut crept back to the bank again, 
whence, sheltering my head behind a bush of broom, I might 
command the road before our door. I was scarcely in position 
ere my enemies began to arrive, seven or eight of them, running 
hard, their feet beating out of time along the road, and the man 
with the lantern some spaces in front. Three men ran together, 
hand in hand ; and I made out, even through the mist, that the 
middle man of this trio was the blind beggar. The next mo- 
ment his voice' showed me that I was right. 

“ Down with the door ! ” he cried. 

“ Ay, ay, sir ! ” answered two or three ; and a rush was made 
upon the “Admiral Benbow,” the lantern-bearer following; and 
then I could see them pause, and hear speeches passed in a 
lower key, as if they were surprised to find the door open. But 
the pause was brief, for the blind man again issued his com- 
mands. His voice sounded louder and higher, as if he were 
afire with eagerness and rage. 

“ In, in, in ! ” he shouted, and cursed them for their delay. 

Four or five of them obeyed at once, two remaining on the 
road with the formidable beggar. There was a pause, then a 
cry of surprise, and then a voice shouting from the house : — 

“Bill’s dead!” 

But the blind man swore at them again for their delay. 

29 


30 


TREASURE ISLAND 


“ Search him, some of you shirking lubbers, and the rest of 
you aloft and get the chest,” he cried. 

I could hear their feet rattling up our old stairs, so that the 
house must have shook with it. Promptly afterwards, fresh 
sounds of astonishment arose; the window of the captain’s 
room was thrown open with a slam and a jingle of broken 
glass ; and a man leaned out into the moonlight, head and 
shoulders, and addressed the blind beggar on the road below 
him. 

“ Pew,” he cried, “ they’ve been before us. Someone’s turned 
the chest out alow and aloft. 0 ” 

“Is it there ! ” roared Pew. 

“ The money’s there.” 

The blind man cursed the money. 

“ Flint’s fist, 0 I mean,” he cried. 

“ We don’t see it here nohow,” returned the man. 

“ Here, you below there, is it on Bill ? ” cried the blind man 
again. 

At that, another fellow, probably him who had remained be- 
low to search the captain’s body, came to the door of the inn. 
“ Bill’s been overhauled a’ready,” said he, “nothin’ left.” 

“ It’s these people of the inn — it’s that boy. I wish I had 
put his eyes out ! ” cried the blind man, Pew. “ They were 
here no time ago — they had the door bolted when I tried it. 
Scatter, lads, and find ’em.” 

“Sure enough, they left their glim here,” said the fellow 
from the window. 

“ Scatter and find ’em ! Rout the house out ! ” reiterated 
Pew, striking with his stick upon the road. 

Then there followed a great to-do through all our old inn, 
heavy feet pounding to and fro, furniture thrown over, doors 
kicked in, until the very rocks reechoed, and the men came out 
again, one after another, on the road, and declared that we were 
nowhere to be found. And iust then the same whistle that 


THE LAST OF THE BLIND MAN 


31 


had alarmed my mother and myself over the dead captain’s 
money was once more clearly audible through the night, but 
this time twice repeated. I had thought it to be the blind 
man’s trumpet, so to speak, summoning his crew to the assault ; 
but I now found that it was a signal from the hillside towards 
the hamlet, and, from its effect upon the buccaneers, a signal 
to warn them of approaching danger. 

“ There’s Dirk again,” said one. “ Twice ! We’ll have to 
budge, mates.” 

“Budge, you skulk !” cried Pew. “Dirk was a fool and a 
coward from the first — you wouldn’t mind him. They must 
be close by; they can’t be far; you have your hands on it. 
Scatter and look for them, dogs ! Oh, shiver my soul,” he cried, 
“ if I had eyes ! ” 

This appeal seemed to produce some effect, for two of the 
fellows began to look here and there among the lumber, but 
half-heartedly, I thought, and with half an eye to their own 
danger all the time, while the rest stood irresolute on the road. 

“You have your hands on thousands, you fools, and you hang 
a leg ° ! You’d be as rich as kings if you could find it, and you 
know it’s here, and you stand there skulking. There wasn’t 
one of you dared face Bill, and I did it — a blind man ! And 
I’m to lose my chance for you ! I’m to be a poor, crawling 
beggar, sponging for rum, when I might be rolling in a coach ! 
If you had the pluck of a weevil in a biscuit you would catch 
them still.” 

“ Hang it, Pew, we’ve got the doubloons ! ” grumbled one. 

“They might have hid the blessed thing,” said another. 
“ Take the Georges, 0 Pew, and don’t stand here squalling.” 

Squalling was the word for it, Pew’s anger rose so high at 
these objections ; till at last, his passion completely taking the 
upper hand, he struck at them right and left in his blindness, 
and his stick sounded heavily on more than one. 

These, in their turn, cursed back at the blind miscreant, 


32 


TREASURE ISLAND 


threatened him in horrid terms, and tried in vain to catch the 
stick and wrest it from his grasp. 

This quarrel was the saving of us ; for while it was still rag- 
ing, another sound came from the top of the hill on the side of 
the hamlet — the tramp of horses galloping. Almost at the 
same time a pistol-shot, flash and report, came from the hedge 
side. And that was plainly the last signal of danger ; for the 
buccaneers turned at once and ran, separating in every direction, 
one seaward along the cove, one slant across the hill, and so on, 
so that in half a minute not a sign of them remained but Pew. 
Him they had deserted, whether in sheer panic or out of revenge 
for his ill words and blows, I know not ; but there he remained 
behind, tapping up and down the road in a frenzy, and groping 
and calling for his comrades. Finally he took the wrong turn, 
and ran a few steps past me, towards the hamlet, crying : — 
“Johnny, Black Dog, Dirk,” and other names, “you won’t 
leave old Pew, mates — not old Pew ! ” 

Just then the noise of horses topped the rise, and four or five 
riders came in sight in the moonlight, and swept at full gallop 
down the slope. 

At this Pew saw his error, turned with a scream, and ran 
straight for the ditch, into which he rolled. But he was on his 
feet again in a second, and made another dash, now utterly be- 
wildered, right under the nearest of the coming horses. 

The rider tried to save him, but in vain. Down went Pew 
with a cry that rang high into the night ; and the four hoofs 
trampled and spurned him and passed by. He fell on his side, 
then gently collapsed upon his face, and moved no more. 

I leaped to my feet and hailed the riders. They were pull- 
ing up, at any rate, horrified at the accident ; and I soon saw 
what they were. One, tailing out behind the rest, was a lad 
that had gone from the hamlet to Dr. Livesey’s ; the rest were 
revenue officers, whom he had met by the way, and with whom 
he had had the intelligence to return at once. Some news of 


THE LAST OF THE BLIND MAN 


33 


the lugger in Kitt’s Hole had found its way to Supervisor Dance, 
and set him forth that night in our direction, and to that circum- 
stance my mother and I owed our preservation from death. 

Pew was dead, stone dead. As for my mother, when we had 
carried her up to the hamlet, a little cold water and salts, and 
that soon brought her back again, and she was none the worse 
for her terror, though she still continued to deplore the balance 
of the money. In the meantime the supervisor rode on, as fast 
as he could, to Kitt’s Hole ; but his men had to dismount and 
grope down the dingle, leading, and sometimes supporting, their 
horses, and in continual fear of ambushes ; so it was no great 
matter for surprise that when they got down to the Hole the 
lugger was already under way, though still close in. He hailed 
her. A voice replied, telling him to keep out of the moonlight, 
or he would get some lead in him, and at the same time a bul- 
let whistled close by his arm. Soon after, the lugger doubled 
the point and disappeared. Mr. Dance stood there, as he said, 
“ like a fish out of water,” and all he could do was to despatch 

a man to B to warn the cutter. “And that,” said he, 

“ is just about as good as nothing. They’ve got off clean, and 
there’s an end. Only,” he added, “I’m glad I trod on Master 
Pew’s corns ; ” for by this time he had heard my story. 

I went back with him to the “ Admiral Benbow,” and you 
cannot imagine a house in such a state of smash ; the very 
clock had been thrown down by these fellows in their furious 
hunt after my mother and myself ; and though nothing had 
actually been taken away except the captain’s money-bag and 
a little silver from the till, I could see at once that we were 
ruined. Mr. Dance could make nothing of the scene. 

“ They got the money, you say 1 Well, then, Hawkins, what 
in fortune were they after ? More money, I suppose ? ” 

“ No, sir ; not money, I think,” replied I. “ In fact, sir, I be- 
lieve I have the thing in my breast-pocket ; and, to tell you the 
truth, I should like to get it put in safety.” 


D 


34 


TREASURE ISLAND 


“To be sure, boy ; quite right,” said he. “ I’ll take it, if you 
like.” 

“I thought, perhaps, Dr. Livesey — ” I began. 

“ Perfectly right,” he interrupted, very cheerily, “ perfectly 
right — a gentleman and a magistrate. And, now I come to 
think of it, I might as well ride round there myself and report 
to him or squire. Master Pew’s dead, when all’s done ; not that 
I regret it, but he’s dead, you see, and people will make it out 
against an officer of his Majesty’s revenue, if make it out they 
can. Now, I’ll tell you, Hawkins : if you like, I’ll take you 
along.” 

I thanked him heartily for the offer, and we walked back 
to the hamlet, where the horses were. By the time I had 
told mother of my purpose they were all in the saddle. 

“ Dogger,” said Mr. Dance, “ you have a good horse ; take 
up this lad behind you.” 

As soon as I was mounted, holding on to Dogger’s belt, the 
supervisor gave the word, and the party struck out at a bounc- 
ing trot on the road to Dr. Livesey’s house. 


CHAPTER VI 


THE CAPTAIN’S PAPERS 

We rode hard all the way, till we drew up before Dr. Live- 
sey’s door. The house was all dark to the front. 

Mr. Dance told me to jump down and knock, and Dogger 
gave me a stirrup to descend by. The door was opened almost 
at once by the maid. 

“ Is Dr. Livesey in ? ” I asked. 

No, she said ; he had come home in the afternoon, but had 
gone up to the Hall to dine and pass the evening with the squire. 

“ So there we go, boys,” said Mr. Dance. 

This time, as the distance was short, I did not mount, but ran 
with Dogger’s stirrup-leather to the lodge gates, and up the long, 
leafless, moonlit avenue to where the white line of the Hall build- 
ings looked on either hand on great old gardens. Here Mr. 
Dance dismounted, and, taking me along with him, was ad- 
mitted at a word into the house. 

The servant led us down a matted passage, and showed us at 
the end into a great library, all lined with book-cases, and busts 
upon the top of them, where the squire and Dr. Livesey sat, 
pipe in hand, on either side of a bright fire. 

I had never seen the squire so near at hand. He was a tall 
man, over six feet high, and broad in proportion, and he had 
a bluff, rough-and-ready face, all roughened and reddened and 
lined in his long travels. His eyebrows w^ere very black, and 
moved readily, and this gave him a look of some temper, not 
bad, you would say, but quick and high. 

35 


36 


TREASURE ISLAND 


“ Come in, Mr. Dance,” said he, very stately and con- 
descending. 

“ Good-evening, Dance,” says the doctor, with a nod. “ And 
good-evening to you, friend Jim. What good wind brings you 
here?” 

The supervisor stood up straight and stiff, and told his story 
like a lesson ; and you should have seen how the two gentlemen 
leaned forward and looked at each other, and forgot to smoke 
in their surprise and interest. When they heard how my mother 
went back to the inn, Dr. Livesey fairly slapped his thigh, and 
the squire cried “ Bravo ! ” and broke his long pipe against the 
grate. Long before it was done, Mr. Trelawney (that, you will 
remember, was the squire’s name) had got up from his seat, and 
was striding about the room, and the doctor, as if to hear the 
better, had taken off his powdered wig, and sat there, looking 
very strange indeed with his own close-cropped, black poll. 

At last Mr. Dance finished the story. 

“Mr. Dance,” said the squire, “you are a very noble fellow. 
And as for riding down that black, atrocious miscreant, I regard 
it as an act of virtue, sir, like stamping on a cockroach. This 
lad Hawkins is a trump, I perceive. Hawkins, will you ring 
that bell? Mr. Dance must have some ale.” 

“ And so, Jim,” said the doctor, “ you have the thing that 
they were after, have you ? ” 

“ Here it is, sir,” said I, and gave him the oilskin packet. 

The doctor looked it all over, as if his fingers were itching to 
open it ; but, instead of doing that, he put it quietly in the 
pocket of his coat. 

“ Squire,” said he, “ when Dance has had his ale he must, of 
course, be off on his Majesty’s service ; but I mean to keep Jim 
Hawkins here to sleep at my house, and, with your permission, 
I propose we should have up the cold pie, and let him sup.” 

“As you will, Livesey,” said the squire; “Hawkins has 
earned better than cold pie.” 


THE CAPTAIN’S PAPERS 


37 


So a big pigeon pie was brought in and put on a side-table, 
and I made a hearty supper, for I was as hungry as a hawk, 
while Mr. Dance was further complimented, and at last dis- 
missed. 

“And now, squire,” said the doctor. 

“And now, Livesey,” said the squire, in the same breath. 

“One at a time, one at a time,” laughed Dr. Livesey. “You 
have heard of this Flint, I suppose ? ” 

“Heard of him ! ” cried the squire. “ Heard of him, you say ! 
He was the bloodthirstiest buccaneer that sailed. Blackbeard 0 
was a ehild to Flint. The Spaniards were so prodigiously 
afraid of him, that, I tell you, sir, I was sometimes proud 
he was an Englishman. I’ve seen his top-sails with these eyes 
off Trinidad , 0 and the cowardly son of a rum-puncheon that I 
sailed with put back — put back, sir, into Port of Spain.” 

“ Well, I’ve heard of him myself, in England,” said the doc- 
tor. “ But the point is, had he money ? ” 

“ Money ! ” cried the squire. “ Have you heard the story ? 
What were these villains after but money? What do they care 
for but money? For what would they risk their rascal car- 
cases but money ? ” 

“ That we shall soon know,” replied the doctor. “ But you 
are so confoundedly hot-headed and exclamatory that I cannot 
get a word in. What I want to know is this : Supposing that 
I have here in my pocket some clue to where Flint buried his 
treasure, will that treasure amount to much?” 

“ Amount, sir ! ” cried the squire. “ It will amount to this : 
if we have the clue you talk about, I fit out a ship in Bristol 
dock, and take you and Hawkins here along, and I’ll have that 
treasure if I search a year.” 

“ Very well,” said the doctor. “ Now, then, if Jim is agree- 
able, we’ll open the packet ” ; and he laid it before him on the 
table. 

The bundle was sewn together, and the doctor had to get out 


38 


TREASURE ISLAND 


his instrument-case, and cut the stitches with his medical 
scissors. It contained two things — a book and a sealed 
paper. 

“ First of all we’ll try the book,” observed the doctor. 

The squire and I were both peering over his shoulder as he 
opened it, for Dr. Livesey had kindly motioned me to come 
round from the side-table, where I had been eating, to enjoy the 
sport of the search. On the first page there were only some 
scraps of writing, such as a man with a pen in his hand might 
make for idleness or practice. One was the same as the tattoo 
mark, “Billy Bones his fancy”; then there was “Mr. W. Bones, 
mate.” “No more rum.” “Off Palm Key° he got itt ; ” and 
some other snatches, mostly single words and unintelligible. I 
could not help wondering who it was that had “ got itt,” and 
what “itt” was that he got. A knife in his back as like as 
not. 

“Not much instruction there,” said Dr. Livesey, as he passed 
on. 

The next ten or twelve pages were filled with a curious series 
of entries. There was a date at one end of the line and at the 
other a sum of money, as in common account-books; but in- 
stead of explanatory writing, only a varying number of crosses 
between the two. On the 12th of June, 1745, for instance, a 
sum of seventy pounds had plainly become due to someone, and 
there was nothing but six crosses to explain the cause. In a 
few cases, to be sure, the name of a place would be added, as 
“ Offe Caraccas 0 ; ” or a mere entry of latitude and longitude, 
as “62° 17' 20", 19° 2' 40".” 

The record lasted over nearly twenty years, the amount of the 
separate entries growing larger as time went on, and at the end 
a grand total had been made out after five or six wrong addi- 
tions, and these words appended, “ Bones, his pile.” 

“ I can’t make head or tail of this,” said Dr. Livesey. 

“ The thing is as clear as noonday,” cried the squire. “ This 


THE CAPTAIN'S PAPERS 


39 


is the black-hearted hound’s account-book. These crosses stand 
for the names of ships or towns that they sank or plundered. 
The sums are the scoundrel’s share, and where he feared an am- 
biguity you see he added something clearer. ‘Offe Caraccas,’ 
now; you see, here was some unhappy vessel boarded off that 
coast. God help the poor souls that manned her — coral long 
ago.” 

“ Right ! ” said the doctor. “See what it is to be a traveller. 
Right ! And the amounts increase, you see, as he rose in 
rank.” 

There was little else in the volume but a few bearings of 
places noted in the blank leaves towards the end, and a table 
for reducing French, English, and Spanish moneys to a common 
value. 

“ Thrifty man ! ” cried the doctor. “ He wasn’t the one to 
be cheated.” 

“And now,” said the squire, “for the other.” 

The paper had been sealed in several places with a thimble 
by way of seal; the very thimble, perhaps, that I had found 
in the captain’s pocket. The doctor opened the seals with great 
care, and there fell out the map of an island, with latitude and 
longitude, soundings, names of hills, and bays and inlets, and 
every particular that would be needed to bring a ship to a safe 
anchorage upon its shores. It was about nine miles long and J 
five across, shaped, you might say, like a fat dragon standing up, 
and had two fine land-locked harbours, and a hill in the centre 
| part marked “ The Spy-glass.” There were several additions of 
! a later date ; but, above all, three crosses of red ink — two on 
| the north part of the island, one on the south-west, and, besides 
this last, in the same red ink, and in a small, neat hand, very 
different from the captain’s tottery characters, these words : 
j “ Bulk of treasure here.” 

Over on the back the same hand had written this further in- 
| formation : — 


40 


TREASURE ISLAND 


“ Tall tree, Spy-glass shoulder, bearing a point to the N. of 
N.N.E. 

“ Skeleton Island E.S.E. and by E. 

“ Ten feet. 

“ The bar silver is in the north cache 0 ; you can find it by the 
trend of the -east hummock, ten fathoms south of the black crag 
with the face on it. 

“ The arms are easy found, in the sand hill, N. point of north 
inlet cape, bearing E. and a quarter N. 

“J. F.” 

That was all ; but “brief as it was, and, to me, incomprehensi- 
ble, it filled the squire and Dr. Livesey with delight. 

“Livesey,” said the squire, “you will give up this wretched 
practice at once. To-morrow I start for Bristol. In three 
weeks’time — three weeks ! — two weeks — ten days — we’ll have 
the best ship, sir, and the choicest crew in England. Hawkins 
shall come as cabin-boy. You’ll make a famous cabin-boy, 
Hawkins. You, Livesey, are ship’s doctor ; I am admiral. 
We’ll take Redruth, Joyce, and Hunter. We’ll have favour- 
able winds, a quick passage, and not the least difficulty in find- 
ing the spot, and money to eat — to roll in — to play duck and 
drake with 0 ever after.” 

“ Trelawney,” said the doctor, “I’ll go with you; and, I’ll 
go bail for it, so will Jim, and be a credit to the undertaking. 
There’s only one man I’m afraid of.” 

“And who’s that?” cried the squire. “Name the dog, 
sir ! ” 

“You,” replied the doctor; “for you cannot hold your 
tongue. We are not the only men who know of this paper. 
These fellows who attacked the inn to-night — bold, desperate 
blades, for sure — and the rest who stayed aboard that lugger, 
and more, I dare say, not far off, are, one and all, through thick 
and thin, bound that they’ll get that money. We must none of 
us go alone till we get to sea. Jim and I shall stick together 
in the meanwhile ; you’ll take Joyce and Hunter when you ride 


THE CAPTAIN'S PAPERS 


41 


to Bristol, and, from first to last, not one of us must breathe a 
word of what we’ve found.” 

“Livesey,” returned the squire, “you are always in the right 
of it. I’ll be as silent as the grave.” 


PART II 


THE SEA COOK 

CHAPTER VII 

I GO TO BRISTOL 

It was longer than the squire imagined ere we were ready 
for the sea, and none of our first plans — not even Dr. Livesey’s 
of keeping me beside him — could be carried out as we intended. 
The doctor had to go to London for a physician to take charge 
of his practice ; the squire was hard at work at Bristol ; and I 
lived on at the Hall under the charge of old Redruth, the game- 
keeper, almost a prisoner, but full of sea-dreams aud the most 
charming anticipations of strange islands and adventures. I 
brooded by the hour together over the map, all the details of 
which I well remembered. Sitting by the fire in the housekeeper’s 
room, I approached that island in my fancy, from every possible 
direction ; I explored every acre of its surface ; I climbed a 
thousand times to that tall hill they call the Spy-glass, and from 
the top enjoyed the most wonderful and changing prospects: 
Sometimes the isle was thick with savages, with whom we 
fought ; sometimes full of dangerous animals that hunted us ; 
but in all my fancies nothing occurred to me so strange and 
tragic as our actual adventures. 

So the weeks passed on, till one fine day there came a letter 
addressed to Dr. Livesey, with this addition, “To be opened, in 

42 


I GO TO BRISTOL 


43 


the case of his absence, by Tom Redruth or young Hawkins.” 
Obeying this order, we found, or rather, I found — for the game- 
keeper was a poor hand at reading anything but print — the 
following important news : — 

Old Anchor Inn , Bristol , March 1, 17 — . 

“ Dear Livesey, — As I do not know whether you are at the 
Hall or still in London, I send this in double to both places. 

“ The ship is bought and fitted. She lies at anchor, ready for 
sea. You never imagined a sweeter schooner — a child might sail 
her — two hundred tons ; name, Hispaniola. 

“ I got her through my old friend, Blandly, who has proved 
himself throughout the most surprising trump. 'The admirable 
fellow literally slaved in my interest, and so, I may say, did every- 
one in Bristol, as soon as they got wind of the port we sailed for — 
treasure, I mean.” 

“ Redruth,” said I, interrupting the letter, “Dr. Livesey will 
not like that. The squire has been talking, after all.” 

“Well, who’s a better right ? ” growled the gamekeeper. “ A 
pretty rum go 0 if squire ain’t to talk for Dr. Livesey, I 
should think. ” 

At that I gave up all attempt at commentary, and read 
straight on : — 

“ Blandly himself found the Hispaniola , and by the most ad- 
mirable management got her for the merest trifle. There is a class 
of men in Bristol monstrously prejudiced against Blandly. They 
go the length of declaring that this honest creature would do any- 
thing for money, that the Hispaniola belonged to him, and that he 
sold it me absurdly high — the most transparent calumnies. None 
of them dare, however, to deny the merits of the ship. 

“ So far there was not a hitch. The workpeople, to be sure — 
riggers and what not — were most annoyingly slow ; but time 
cured that. It was the crew that troubled me. 

“ I wished a round score of men — in case of natives, buccaneers, 
or the odious French — and I had the worry of the deuce itself to 
find so much as half a dozen, till the most remarkable stroke of 
fortune brought me the very man that I required. 


44 


TREASURE ISLAND 


“ I was standing on the dock, when, by the merest accident, I 
fell in talk with him. I found he was an old sailor, kept a public- 
house, knew all the seafaring men in Bristol, had lost his health 
ashore, and wanted a good berth as cook to get to sea again. He 
had hobbled down there that morning, he said, to get a smell of 
the salt. 

“ I was monstrously touched — so would you have been — and, 
out of pure pity, I engaged him on the spot to be ship’s cook. 
Long John Silver, he is called, and has lost a leg ; but that X 
regarded as a recommendation, since he lost it in his country’s 
services, under the immortal Hawke. He has no pension, Livesey. 
Imagine the abominable age we live in ! 

“ Well, sir, I thought I had only found a cook, but it was a crew 
I had discovered. Between Silver and myself we got together in a 
few days a company of the toughest old salts imaginable — not 
pretty to look at, but fellows, by their faces, of the most indomita- 
ble spirit. I declare we could fight a frigate. 

“ Long John even got rid of two out of the six or seven I had 
already engaged. He showed me in a moment that they were just 
the sort of fresh water swabs we had to fear in an adventure of 
importance. 

“ I am in the most magnificent health and spirits, eating like a 
bull, sleeping like a tree, yet I shall not enjoy a moment till I hear 
my old tarpaulins tramping round the capstan. Seaward ho ! 
Hang the treasure ! It’s the glory of the sea that has turned my 
head. So now, Livesey, come post ; do not lose an hour if you 
respect me. 

“Let young Hawkins go at once to see his mother, with Red- 
ruth for a guard ; and then both come full speed to Bristol. 

“ John Trelawney. 

“ Postscript. — I did not tell you that Blandly, who, by the way, 
is to send a consort after us if we don’t turn up by the end of 
August, had found an admirable fellow for sailing master — a stiff 
man, which I regret, but, in all other respects, a treasure. Long 
John Silver unearthed a very competent man for a mate, a man 
named Arrow. I have a boatswain who pipes, Livesey ; so things 
shall go man-of-war fashion on board the good ship Hispaniola. 

“ I forgot to tell you that Silver is a man of substance ; I know 
of my own knowledge that he has a banker’s account, which has 
never been overdrawn. He leaves his wife to manage the inn ; 
and as she is a woman of colour, a pair of old bachelors like you 


I GO TO BRISTOL 


45 


and I may be excused for guessing that it is the wife, quite as 
much as the health, that sends him back to roving. 

“ J. T. 

“ B P S- — Hawkins may stay one night with his mother. 

“ J. T.” 


You can fancy the excitement into which that letter put me. 
I was half beside myself with glee ; and if ever I despised a 
man, it was old Tom Redruth, who could do nothing but grum- 
ble and lament. Any of the under-gamekeepers would gladly 
have changed places with him ; but such was not the squire’s 
pleasure, and the squire’s pleasure was like law among them all. 
Nobody but Old Redruth would have dared so much as even to 
grumble. 

The uext morning he and I set out on foot for the “ Admiral 
Benbow,” and there I found my mother in good health and 
spirits. The captain, who had so long been a cause of so much 
discomfort, was gone where the wicked cease from troubling. 
The squire had had everything repaired, and the public rooms 
and the sign repainted, and had added some furniture — above 
all a beautiful arm-chair for mother in the bar. He had found 
her a boy as an apprentice also, so that she should not want 
help while I was gone. 

It was on seeing that boy that I understood, for the first 
time, my situation. I had thought up to that moment of the 
adventures before me, not at all of the home that I was leaving ; 
and now, at sight of this clumsy stranger, who was to stay here in 
my place beside my mother, I had my first attack of tears. I 
am afraid I led that boy a dog’s life ; for as he was new to the 
work, I had a hundred opportunities of setting him right and 
putting him down, and I was not slow to profit by them. 

The night passed, and the next day, after dinner, Redruth 
and I were afoot again, and on the road. I said good-bye to 
mother and the cove where I had lived since I was born, and 
the dear old “Admiral Benbow” — since he was repainted, no 


46 


TREASURE ISLAND 


longer quite so dear. One of my last thoughts was of the cap- 
tain, who had so often strode along the beach with his cocked 
hat, his sabre-cut cheek, and his old brass telescope. Next 
moment we had turned the corner, and my home was out of 
sight. 

The mail picked us up about dusk at the “ Royal George ” 
on the heath. I was wedged in between Redruth and a stout 
old gentleman, and in spite of the swift motion and the cold 
night air, I must have dozed a great deal from the very 
first, and then slept like a log up hill and down dale through 
stage after stage ; for when I was awakened, at last, it was by 
a punch in the ribs, and I opened my eyes, to find that we 
were standing still before a large building in a city street, and 
that the day had already broken a long time. 

“ Where are we ? ” I asked. 

“ Bristol,” said Tom. “ Get down.” 

Mr. Trelawney had taken up his residence at an inn far 
down the docks, to superintend the work upon the schooner. 
Thither we had now to walk, and our way, to my great delight, 
lay along the quays and beside the great multitude of ships of 
all sizes and rigs and nations. In one, sailors were singing at 
their work ; in another, there were men aloft, high over my 
head, hanging to threads that seemed no thicker than a 
spider’s. Though I had lived by the shore all my life, I seemed 
never to have been near the sea till then. The smell of tar 
and salt was something new. I saw the most wonderful fig- 
ureheads, that had all been far over the ocean. I saw, besides, 
many old sailors, with rings in their ears, and whiskers curled 
in ringlets, and tarry pigtails, and their swaggering, clumsy 
sea-walk ; and if I had seen as many kings or archbishops I 
could not have been more delighted. 

And I was going to sea myself ; to sea in a schooner, with a 
piping boatswain, and pigtailed singing seamen ; to sea, bound 
for an unknown island, and to seek for buried treasures ! 


I GO TO BRISTOL 


47 


While I was still in this delightful dream, we came suddenly 
in front of a large inn, and met Squire Trelawney, all dressed 
out like a sea-officer, in stout blue cloth, coming out of the door 
with a smile on his face, and a capital imitation of a sailor’s 
walk. 

“ Here you are,” he cried, “ and the doctor came last night 
from London. Bravo ! the ship’s company complete ! ” 

“ Oh, sir,” cried I, “ when do we sail ? ” 

“ Sail ! ” says he. “We sail to-morrow ! ” 


CHAPTER VIII 


AT THE SIGN OF THE “ SPY-GLASS ” 

When I had done breakfasting the squire gave me a note 
addressed to John Silver, at the sign of the “ Spy-glass,” and 
told me I should easily find the place by following the line of 
the docks, and keeping a br : *ok-out for a little tavern with 

a large brass telescope for sign. I set off, overjoyed at this 
opportunity to see some more of the ships and seamen, and 
picked my way among a great crowd of people and carts and 
bales, for the dock was now at its busiest, until I found the tavern 
in question. 

It was a bright enough little place of entertainment. The 
sign was newly painted ; the windows had neat red curtains ; 
the floor was cleanly sanded. There was a street on either 
side, and an open door on both, which made the large, low 
room pretty clear to see in, in spite of clouds of tobacco smoke. 

The customers were mostly seafaring men ; and they talked 
so loudly that I hung at the door, almost afraid to enter. 

As I was waiting, a man came out of a side room, and, at 
a glance, I was sure he must be Long John. His left leg 
was cut off close by the hip, and under the left shoulder 
he carried a crutch, which he managed with wonderful 
dexterity, hopping about upon it like a bird. He was very 
tall and strong, with a face as big as a ham — plain and pale, 
but intelligent and smiling. Indeed, he seemed in the most 
cheerful spirits, whistling as he moved about among the tables, 

48 


AT THE SIGN OF THE u SPY-GLASS ” 


49 


with a merry word or a slap on the shoulder for the more fa- 
voured of his guests. 

Now, to tell you the truth, from the very first mention of 
Long John in Squire Trelawney’s letter, I had taken a fear in 
my mind that he might prove to he the very one-legged sailor 
whom I had watched for so long at the old “ Benbow.” But 
one look at the man before me was enough. I had seen the 
captain, and Black Dog, and the blind man Pew, and I thought 
I knew what a buccaneer was like — a very different creature, ac- 
cording to me, from this clean and pleasant-tempered landlord. 

I plucked up courage at once, crossed the threshold, and 
walked right up to the man where he stood, propped on his 
crutch, talking to a customer. 

“ Mr. Silver, sir 1 ” I asked, hok^ng out the note. 

“ Yes, my lad,” said he ; “ such is my name, to be sure. 
And who may you be?” And then as he saw the squire’s 
letter, he seemed to me to give something almost like a start. 

“Oh ! ” said he, quite loud, and offering his hand, “ I see. 
You are our new cabin-boy ; pleased I am to see you.” 

And he took my hand in his large firm grasp. 

Just then one of the customers at the far side rose suddenly 
and made for the door. It was close by him, and he was out 
in the street in a moment. But his hurry had attracted my 
notice, and I recognised him at a glance. It was the tallow- 
faced man, wanting two fingers, who had come first to the 
“ Admiral Benbow.” 

“ Oh,” I cried, “ stop him ! it’s Black Dog ! ” 

“I don’t care two coppers who he is,” cried Silver. “But 
he hasn’t paid his score. Harry, run and catch him.” 

One of the others who was nearest the door leaped up, and 
started in pursuit. 

“If he were Admiral Hawke he shall pay his score,” cried 
Silver ; and then, relinquishing my hand — “Who did you say 
he was 1 ” he asked. “ Black what ? ” 


50 


TREASURE ISLAND 


“ Dog, sir,” said I. “ Has Mr. Trelawney not told you of 
the buccaneers? He was one of them.” 

So ? ” cried Silver. “ In my house ! Ben, run and help 
Harry. One of those swabs, was he? Was that you drinking 
with him, Morgan ? Step up here.” 

The man whom he called Morgan — an old, grey-haired, ma- 
hogany-faced sailor — came forward pretty sheepishly, rolling 
his quid. 

“Now, Morgan,” said Long John, very sternly; “you never 
clapped your eyes on that Black — Black Dog before, did you, 
now ? ” 

“Not I, sir,” said Morgan, with a salute. 

“You didn’t know his name, did you ? ” 

“No, sir.” 

“ By the powers, Tom Morgan, it’s as good for you ! ” ex- 
claimed the landlord. “ If you had been mixed up with the 
like of that, you would never have put another foot in my house, 
you may lay to that. And what was he saying to you ? ” 

“ I don’t rightly know, sir,” answered Morgan. 

“ Do you call that a head on your shoulders, or a blessed 
dead-eye ° ? ” cried Long John. “ Don’t rightly know, don’t you ! 
Perhaps you don’t happen to rightly know who you was speak- 
ing to, perhaps? Come, now, what was he jawing — v’yages, 
cap’ns, ships ? Pipe up ! What was it ? ” 

“We was a-talkin’ of keel-hauling, 0 ” answered Morgan. 

“Keel-hauling, was you? and a mighty suitable thing, too, 
and you may lay to that. Get back to your place for a lubber, 
Tom.” 

And then, as Morgan rolled back to his seat, Silver added to 
me in a confidential whisper, that was very flattering, as I 
thought : — 

“ He’s quite an honest man, Tom Morgan, on’y stupid. And 
now,” he ran on again, aloud, “let’s see — Black Dog? No, I 
don’t know the name, not I. Yet I kind of think I’ve — yes, 


AT THE SIGN OF THE “SPY-GLASS” 


51 


I’ve seen the swab. He used to come here with a blind beggar, 
he used.” 

“That he did, you may be sure,” said I. “I knew that 
blind man, too. His name was Pew.” 

“ It was ! ” cried Silver, now quite excited. “ Pew ! That 
were his name for certain. Ah, he looked a shark, he did ! If 
we run down this Black Dog, now, there’ll be news for Cap’n 
Trelawney ! Ben’s a good runner ; few seamen run better 
than Ben. He should run him down, hand over hand, by the 
powers ! He talked o’ keel-hauling, did he ? I’ll keel-haul 
him ! ” 

All the time he was jerking out these phrases he was stump- 
ing up and down the tavern on his crutch, slapping tables with 
his hand, and giving such a show of excitement as would have 
convinced an Old Bailey judge or a Bow Street runner. My 
| suspicions had been thoroughly re-awakened on finding Black 
| Dog at the “ Spy-glass,” and I watched the cook narrowly. But 
! he was too deep, and too ready, and too clever for me, and by 
| the time the two men had come back out of breath, and con- 
i fessed that they had lost the track in a crowd, and been scolded 
! like thieves, I would have gone bail for the innocence of Long 
John Silver. 

“ See here, now, Hawkins,” said he, “ here’s a blessed hard 
j thing on a man like me, now, ain’t it. There’s Cap’n Trelaw- 
ney — what’s he to think ? Here I have this confounded son 
[ of a Dutchman sitting in my own house, drinking of my own 
rum ! Here you comes and tells me of it plain ; and here I let 
I him give us all the slip before my blessed dead-lights ! Now, 
Hawkins, you do me justice with the cap’n. You’re a lad, you 
are, but you’re as smart as paint. I see that when you first 
came in. Now, here it is : What could I do, with this old 
timber I hobble on 1 When I was an A B master mariner I’d 
; have come up alongside of him, hand over hand, and broached 
i him to in a brace of old shakes, I would ; but now — ” 


52 


TREASURE ISLAND 


And then, all of a sudden, he stopped, and his jaw dropped 
as though he had remembered something. 

“ The score,” he burst out. “ Three goes o’ rum ! Why, 
shiver my timbers, if I hadn’t forgotten my score ! ” 

And, falling on a bench, he laughed until the tears ran down 
his cheeks. I could not help joining ; and we laughed together, 
peal after peal, until the tavern rang again. 

“ Why, what a precious old sea-calf I am!” he said, at last, 
wiping his cheeks. “ You and me should get on well, Hawkins, 
for I’ll take my davy° I should be rated ship’s boy. But, come, 
now, stand by to go about . 0 This won’t do. Dooty is dooty, 
messmates. I’ll put on my old cocked hat, and step along of 
you to Cap’n Trelawney, and report this here affair. For, mind 
you, it’s serious, young Hawkins ; and neither you nor me’s 
come out of it with what I should make so bold as to call credit. 
Nor you neither, says you ; not smart — none of the pair of us 
smart. But dash my buttons ! that was a good ’un about my 
score.” 

And he began to laugh again, and that so heartily, that though 
I did not see the joke as he did, I was again obliged to join him 
in his mirth. 

On our little walk along the quays, he made himself the 
most interesting companion, telling me about the different ships 
that we passed by, their rig, tonnage, and nationality, explain- 
ing the work that was going forward — how one was discharg- 
ing, another taking in cargo, and a third making ready for sea ; 
and every now and then telling me some little anecdote of ships or 
seamen, or repeating a nautical phrase till I had learned it 
perfectly. I began to see that here was one of the best of 
possible shipmates. 

When we got to the inn, the squire and Dr. Livesey were 
seated together, finishing a quart of ale with a toast in it, before 
they should go aboard the schooner on a visit of inspection. 

Long John told the story from first to last, with a great 


AT THE SIGN OF THE “SPY-GLASS” 53 

deal of spirit and the most perfect truth. “ That was how it 
were, now, weren’t it, Hawkins ? ” he would say, now and again, 
and I could always bear him entirely out. 

The two gentlemen regretted that Black Dog had got away ; 
but we all agreed there was nothing to be done, and after he had 
been complimented, Long John took up his crutch and departed. 

“ All hands aboard by four this afternoon,” shouted the 
squire after him. 

“ Ay, ay, sir,” cried the cook, in the passage. 

“Well, squire,” said Dr. Livesey, “I don’t put much faith 
in your discoveries, as a general thing ; but I will say this, John 
Silver suits me.” 

“ The man’s a perfect trump,” declared the squire. 

“And now,” added the doctor, “Jim may come on board 
with us, may he not ? ” 

“ To be sure he may,” says squire, 
and we’ll see the ship.” 


“Take your hat, Hawkins, 


CHAPTER IX 


POWDER AND ARMS 

The Hispaniola lay some way out, and we went under the 
figureheads and round the sterns of many other ships, and their 
cables sometimes grated underneath our keel, and sometimes 
swung above us. At last, however, we got alongside, and 
were met and saluted as we stepped aboard by the mate, Mr. 
Arrow, a brown old sailor, with earrings in his ears and a squint. 
He and the squire were very thick and friendly, but I soon 
observed that things were not the same between Mr. Trelawney 
and the captain. 

This last was a sharp-looking man, who seemed angry with 
everything on board, and was soon to tell us why, for we had 
hardly got down into the cabin when a sailor followed us. 

“ Captain Smollett, sir, axing to speak with you,” said he. 

“ I am always at the captain’s orders. Show him in,” said 
the squire. 

The captain, who was close behind his messenger, entered 
at once, and shut the door behind him. 

“Well, Captain Smollett, what have you to say? All well, 
I hope ; all shipshape and seaworthy ? ” 

“Well, sir,” said the captain, “better speak plain, I believe, 
even at the risk of offence. I don’t like this cruise ; I don’t 
like the men ; and I don’t like my officer. That’s short and 
sweet.” 

“ Perhaps, sir, you don’t like the ship ? ” inquired the 
squire, very angry, as I could see. 

54 


POWDER AND ARMS 


55 


“I can’t speak as to that, sir, not having seen her tried,” 
said the captain. “ She seems a clever craft; more I can’t say.” 

“Possibly, sir, you may not like your employer, either?” 
says the squire. 

But here Dr. Livesey cut in. 

“ Stay a bit,” said he, “ stay a bit. No use of such ques- 
tions as that but to produce ill-feeling. The captain has said too 
much or he has said too little, and I’m bound to say that I re- 
quire an explanation of his words. You don’t, you say, like 
this cruise. Now, why?” 

“ I was engaged, sir, on what we call sealed orders, to sail this 
ship for that gentleman where he should bid me,” said the 
captain. “ So far so good. But now I find that every man 
before the mast knows more than I do. I don’t call that fair, 
now, do you ? ” 

“ No,” said Dr. Livesey, “ I don’t. ” 

“ Next,” said the captain, “ I learn we are going after 
treasure — hear it from my own hands, mind you. Now, 
treasure is ticklish work ; I don’t like treasure voyages on any 
account ; and I don’t like them, above all, when they are secret, 
and when (begging you pardon, Mr. Trelawney) the secret has 
been told to the parrot.” 

“ Silver’s parrot ? ” asked the squire. 

“ It’s a way of speaking,” said the captain. “ Blabbed, I 
mean. It’s my belief neither of you gentlemen know what 
you are about ; but I’ll tell you my way of it — life or death, 
and a close run.” 

“ That is all clear, and, I daresay, true enough,” replied Dr. 
Livesey. “We take the risk ; but we are not so ignorant as 
you believe us. Next, you say you don’t like the crew. Are 
they not good seamen ? ” 

“ I don’t like them, sir,” returned Captain Smollett. “ And 
I think I should have had the choosing of my own hands, if 
you go to that.” 


56 


TREASURE ISLAND 


“Perhaps you should,” replied the doctor. “ My friend 
should, perhaps, have taken you along with him ; hut the 
slight, if there be one, was unintentional. And you don’t like 
Mr. Arrow ? ” 

“ I don’t, sir. I believe he’s a good seaman ; but he’s too free 
with the crew to be a good officer. A mate should keep himself 
to himself — shouldn’t drink with the men before the mast ! ” 

“ Do you mean he drinks ? ” cried the squire. 

“ No, sir,” replied the captain ; “ only that he’s too familiar.” 

“Well, now, and the short and long of it, captain?” asked 
the doctor. “ Tell us what you want.” 

“ Well, gentlemen, are you determined to go on this cruise? ” 

“ Like iron,” answered the squire. 

“ Very good,” said the captain. “ Then, as you’ve heard me 
very patiently, saying things that I could not prove, hear me 
a few words more. They are putting the powder and the arms 
in the fore hold. Now, you have a good place under the cabin ; 
why not put them there ? — first point. Then you are bringing 
four of your own people with you, and they tell me some of 
them are to be berthed forward. Why not give them the berths 
here beside the cabin? — second point.” 

“ Any more ? ” asked Mr. Trelawney. 

“ One more,” said the captain. “ There’s been too much 
blabbing already.” 

“ Far too much,” agreed the doctor. 

“I’ll tell you what I’ve heard myself,” continued Captain 
Smollett : “ that you have a map of an island ; that there’s 
crosses on the map to show where treasure is; and that the 
island lies — ” And then he named the latitude and longi- 
tude exactly. 

“ I never told that,” cried the squire, “ to a soul ! ” 

“ The hands know it, sir,” returned the captain. 

“Livesey, that must have been you or Hawkins,” cried the 
squire. 


POWDER AND ARMS 


57 


“ It doesn’t much matter who it was,” replied the doctor. 
And I could see that neither he nor the captain paid much re- 
gard to Mr Trelawney’s protestations. Neither did I, to be 
sure, he was so loose a talker ; yet in this case I believe he was 
really right, and that nobody had told the situation of the 
island. 

“ Well, gentlemen,” continued the captain, “ I don’t know who 
has this map ; but I make it a point, it shall be kept secret 
even from me and Mr. Arrow. Otherwise I would ask you to 
let me resign.” 

“ I see,” said the doctor. “You wish us to keep this matter 
dark, and to make a garrison of the stern part of the ship, 
manned with my friend’s own people, and provided with all the 
arms and powder on board. In other words, you fear a mutiny.” 

“ Sir,” said Captain Smollett, “ with no intention to take 
offence, I deny your right to put words into my mouth. No 
captain, sir, would be justified in going to sea at all if he had 
ground enough to say that. As for Mr. Arrow, I believe him 
thoroughly honest ; some of the men are the same ; all may be 
for what I know. But I am responsible for the ship’s safety 
and the life of every man Jack aboard of her. I see things 
going, as I think, not quite right. And I ask you to take cer- 
tain precautions, or let me resign my berth. And that’s all.” 

“Captain Smollett,” began the doctor, with a smile, “did 
ever you hear the fable of the mountain and the mouse ? You’ll 
excuse me, I daresay, but you remind me of that fable. When 
you came in here I’ll stake my wig you meant more than this.” 

“ Doctor,” said the captain, “ you are smart. When I came 
in here I meant to get discharged. I had no thought that Mr. 
Trelawney would hear a word.” 

“No more I would,” cried the squire. “Had Livesey not 
been here, I should have seen you to the deuce. As it is, I have 
heard you. I will do as you desire ; but I think the worse of 
you.” 


58 


TREASURE ISLAND 


“ That’s as you please, sir,” said the captain. “ You’ll find 
I do my duty.” 

And with that he took his leave. 

“ Trelawney,” said the doctor, “ contrary to all my notions, 
I believe you have managed to get two honest men on board 
with you — that man and John Silver.” 

“Silver, if you like,” cried the squire; “but as for that intol- 
erable humbug, I declare I think his conduct unmanly, unsail- 
orly, and downright un-English.” 

“Well,” says the doctor, “we shall see.” 

When we came on deck, the men had begun already to take 
out the arms and powder, yo-ho-ing at their work, while the 
captain and Mr. Arrow stood by superintending. 

The new arrangement was quite to my liking. The whole 
schooner had been overhauled ; six berths had been made astern, 
out of what had been the after-part of the main hold ; and this 
set of cabins was only joined to the galley and forecastle by a 
sparred passage on the port side. It had been originally meant 
that the captain, Mr. Arrow, Hunter, Joyce, the doctor, and 
the squire were to occupy these six berths. Now, Redruth and 
I were to get two of them, and Mr. Arrow and the captain were 
to sleep on deck in the companion, which had been enlarged on 
each side till you might almost have called it a round-house. 
Very low it was still, of course; but there was room to swing 
two hammocks, and even the mate seemed pleased with the ar- 
rangement. Even he, perhaps, had been doubtful as to the 
crew, but that is only guess ; for as you shall hear, we had not 
long the benefit of his opinion. 

We were all hard at work, changing the powder and the 
berths, when the last man or two, and Long John along with 
them, came off in a shore-boat. 

The cook came up the side like a monkey for cleverness, and, 
as soon as he saw what was doing, “ So ho, mates ! ” says he, 
“ what’s this ? ” 


POWDER AND ARMS 


59 


“ We’re a-changing of the powder, Jack,” answers one. 

“Why, by the powers,” cried Long John, “if we do, we’ll 
miss the morning tide ! ” 

“My orders !” said the captain shortly. “You may go be- 
low, my man. Hands will want supper.” 

“ Ay, ay, sir,” answered the cook ; and, touching his forelock, 
he disappeared at once in the direction of his galley. 

“ That’s a good man, captain,” said the doctor. 

“Very likely, sir,” replied Captain Smollett. “Easy with 
that, men — easy,” he ran on, to the fellows who were shifting 
the powder ; and then suddenly observing me examining the 
swivel we carried amidships, a long brass nine — “Here, you 
ship’s boy,” he cried, “ out o’ that ! Off with you to the cook 
and get some work.” 

And then as I was hurrying off I heard him say, quite loudly, 
to the doctor : — 

“I’ll have no favourites on my ship.” 

I assure you I was quite of the squire’s way of thinking, and 
hated the captain deeply. 


CHAPTER X 




THE VOYAGE 


All that night we were in a great bustle getting things 
stowed in their places, and boatfuls of the squire’s friends, Mr. 
Blandly and the like, coming off to wish him a good voyage 
and a safe return. We never had a night at the “Admiral 
Benbow ” when I had half the work ; and I was dog-tired when, 
a little before dawn, the boatswain sounded his pipe, and the 
crew began to man the capstan-bars. I might have been twice 
as weary, yet I would not have left the deck ; all was so new 
and interesting to me — the brief commands, the shrill note of 
the whistle, the men bustling to their places in the glimmer of 
the ship’s lauterns. 

“ Now, Barbecue, tip us a stave,” cried one voice. 

“ The old one,” cried another. 

“Ay, ay, mates,” said Long John, who was standing by, 
with his crutch under his arm, and at once broke out in the 
air and words I knew so well — 



Fifteen men on the dead man’s chest ! ” — 


and then the whole crew bore chorus : — 


“ Yo-ho-ho and a bottle of rum ! ” 


and at the third “ ho ! ” drove the bars before them with a 
will. 


60 




THE VOYAGE 


61 


Even at that exciting moment it carried me back to the old 
“ Admiral Benbow ” in a second ; and I seemed to hear the 
voice of the captain piping in the chorus. But soon the anchor 
was short up ; soon it was hanging dripping at the bows ; soon 
the sails began to draw, and the land and shipping to flit by 
on either side ; and before I could lie down to snatch an hour 
of slumber the Hispaniola had begun her voyage to the Isle of 
Treasure. 

I am not going to relate that voyage in detail. It was fairly 
prosperous. The ship proved to be a good ship, the crew 
were capable seamen, and the captain thoroughly understood 
his business. But before we came the length of Treasure 
Island, two or three things had happened which require to 
be known. 

Mr. Arrow, first of all, turned out even worse than the cap- 
tain had feared. He had no command among the men, and 
| people did what they pleased with him. But that was by no 
means the worst of it ; for after a day or two at sea he began 
to appear on deck with hazy eye, red cheeks, stuttering tongue, 
and other marks of drunkenness. Time after time he was ordered 
below in disgrace. Sometimes he fell and cut himself ; some- 
times he lay all day long in his little bunk at one side of the 
companion ; sometimes for a day or two he would be almost 
sober and attend to his work at least passably. 

In the meantime, we could never make out where he got the 
drink. That was the ship’s mystery. Watch him as we pleased, 
we could do nothing to solve it ; and when we asked him to his 
face, he would only laugh, if he were drunk, and if he were 
sober, deny solemnly that he ever tasted anything but water. 

He was not only useless as an officer, and a bad influence 
amongst the men, but it was plain that at this rate he must 
soon kill himself outright ; so nobody was much surprised, nor 
very sorry, when one dark night, with a head sea, he disap- 
peared entirely and was seen no more. 


62 


TREASURE ISLAND 


“Overboard!” said the captain. “Well, gentlemen, that 
saves the trouble of putting him in irons.” 

But there we were, without a mate ; and it was necessary, 
of course, to advance one of the men. The boatswain, Job An- 
derson, was the likeliest man aboard, and, though he kept his 
old title, he served in a way as mate. Mr. Trelawney had fol- 
lowed the sea, and his knowledge made him very useful, for he 
often took a watch himself in easy weather. And the coxswain, 
Israel Hands, was a careful, wily, old, experienced seaman, who 
could be trusted at a pinch with almost anything. 

He was a great confidant of Long John Silver, and so the 
mention of his name leads me on to speak of our ship’s cook, 
Barbecue, as the men called him. 

Aboard ship he carried his crutch by a lanyard 0 round his 
neck, to have both hands as free as possible. It was some- \ 
thing to see him wedge the foot of the crutch against a bulk- 
head, and, propped against it, yielding to every movement of 
the ship, get on with his cooking, like someone safe ashore. ' 
Still more strange was it to see him in the heaviest of weather 
cross the deck. He had a line or • two rigged up to help him 
across the widest spaces — Long John’s earrings, they were > 
called ; and he would hand himself from one ) place to another, 
now using the crutch, now trailing it alongside by the lanyard, Jj, 
as quickly as another man could walk. Yet some of the men 
who had sailed with him before expressed their pity to see him 
so reduced. 

“ He’s no common man, Barbecue,” said the coxswain to me. 

“ He had good schooling in his young days, and can speak like 
a book when so minded ; and brave — a lion’s nothing along- 
side of Long John ! I seen him grapple four, and knock their 
heads together — him unarmed.” 

All the crew respected and even obeyed him. He had a way 
of talking to each, and doing everybody some particular service. 
To me he was unweariedly kind ; and always glad to see me in 


THE VOYAGE 


63 


the galley, which he kept as clean as a new pin ; the dishes 
hanging up burnished and his parrot in a cage in one corner. 

“Come away, Hawkins,’’ he would say; “come and have a 
yarn with John. Nobody more welcome than yourself, my son. 
Sit you down and hear the news. Here’s Cap’h Flint — I calls 
my parrot Cap’n Flint, after the famous buccaneer — here’s Cap’n 
Flint predicting success to our v’yage. Wasn’t you, cap’n ? ” 

And the parrot would say, with great rapidity, “ Pieces of 
eight ! pieces of eight ! pieces of eight ! ” till you wondered that 
it was not out of breath, or till John threw his handkerchief 
over the cage. 

“Now, that bird,” he would say, “is, may be, two hundred 
years old, Hawkins — they lives for ever mostly ; and if any- 
body’s seen more wickedness, it must be the devil himself. 
She’s sailed with England , 0 the great Cap’n England, the pirate. 
She’s been at Madagascar , 0 and at Malabar , 0 and Surinam , 0 and 
Providence , 0 and Portobello . 0 She was at the fishing up of the 
wrepked plate ships. It’s there she learned ‘ Pieces of eight,’ 
and little wonder ; three hundred and fifty thousand of ’em, 
Hawkins ! She was at the boarding of the Viceroy of the 
Indies out of Goa,° she was ; and to look at her you would 
think she was a babby. But you smelt powder — didn’t you, 
cap’n ? ” 

“ Stand by to go about,” the parrot would scream. 

“ Ah, she’s a handsome craft, she is,” the cook would say, 
and give her sugar from his pocket, and then the bird would 
peck at the bars and swear straight on, passing belief for wick- 
edness. “ There,” John would add, “ you can’t touch pitch and 
not be mucked, lad. Here’s this poor old innocent bird o’ mine 
swearing blue fire, and none the wiser, you may lay to that. 
She would swear the same, in a manner of speaking, before chap- 
lain.” And John would touch his forelock with a solemn way 
he had, that made me think he was the best of men. 

In .the meantime, squire and Captain Smollett were still on 


64 


TREASURE ISLAND 


pretty distant terms with one another. The squire made no 
bones about the matter ; he despised the captain. The captain, 
on his part, never spoke but when he was spoken to, and then 
sharp and short and dry, and not a word wasted. He owned, 
when driven into a corner, that he seemed to have been wrong 
about the crew, that some of them were as brisk as he wanted 
to see, and all had behaved fairly well. As for the ship, he had 
taken a downright fancy to her. “ She’ll lie a point nearer the 
wind than a man has a right to expect of his own married wife, 
sir. But,” he would add, “ all I say is we’re not home again, 
and I don’t like the cruise.” 

The Squire, at this, would turn away and march up and down 
the deck, chin in air. 

“A trifle more of that man,” he would say, “and I should 
explode.” 

We had some heavy weather, which only proved the qualities 
of the Hispaniola. Every man on board seemed well contented, 
and they must have been hard to please if they had been other- 
wise ; for it is my belief there was never a ship’s company so 
spoiled since Noah put to sea. Double grog was going on the 
least excuse ; there was duff on odd days, as, for instance, if the 
squire heard it was any man’s birthday ; and always a barrel of 
apples standing broached in the waist, for anyone to help him- 
self that had a fancy. 

“ Never knew good come of it yet,” the captain said to Dr. 
Livesey. “ Spoil foc’s’le hands, make devils. That’s my 
belief.” 

But good did come of the apple barrel, as you shall hear ; 
for if it had not been for that, we should have had no note of 
warning, and might all have perished by the hand of treachery. 

This was how it came about. 

We had run up the trades 0 to get the wind of the island we 
were after — I am not allowed to be more plain — and now we 
were running down for it with a bright look-out day and night. 


THE VOYAGE 


65 


It was about the last day of our outward voyage, by the largest 
computation ; some time that night, or, at latest, before noon 
of the morrow, we should sight the Treasure Island. We were 
heading S.S.W., and had a steady breeze abeam and a quiet sea. 
The Hispaniola rolled steadily, dipping her bowsprit how and 
then with a whiff of spray. All was drawing alow and aloft ; 
everyone was in the bravest spirits, because we were now so 
near an end of the first part of our adventure. 

Now, just after sundown, when all my work was over, and I 
was on my way to my berth, it occurred to me that I should 
like an apple. I ran on deck. The watch was all forward 
looking out for the island. The man at the helm was watching 
the luff of the sail, and whistling away gently to himself ; and 
that was the only sound excepting the swish of the sea against 
the bows and around the sides of the ship. 

In I got bodily into the apple barrel, and found there was 
scarce an apple left ; but, sitting down there in the dark, what 
with the sound of the waters and the rocking movement of the 
ship, I had either fallen asleep, or was on the point of doing so, 
when a heavy man sat down with rather a clash close by. The 
barrel shook as he leaned his shoulders against it, and I was 
just about to jump up when the man began to speak. It was 
Silver’s voice, and, before I had heard a dozen words, I would 
not have shown myself for all the world, but lay there, trem- 
bling and listening, in the extreme of fear and curiosity ; for 
from these dozen words I understood that the lives of all the 
honest men aboard depended upon me alone. 


p 


CHAPTER XI 


WHAT I HEARD IN THE APPLE BARREL 

“ No, not I,” said Silver. “ Flint was cap’n ; I was quarter- 
master, along of my timber leg. The same broadside I lost my 
leg, old Pew lost his deadlights. It was a master surgeon, him 
that ampytated me — out of college and all — Latin by the 
bucket, and what not ; but he was hanged like a dog, and sun- 
dried like the rest, at Corso Castle. That was Roberts’ 0 men, 
that was, and corned of changing name to their ships — Royal 
Fortune and so on. Now, what a ship was christened, so let 
her stay, I says. So it was with the Cassandra , as brought us 
all safe home from Malabar, after England took the Viceroy of 
the Indies ; so it was with the old Walrus, Flint’s old ship, 
as I have seen a-muck with the red blood and fit to sink with 
gold.” 

“Ah ! ” cried another voice, that of the youngest hand on 
board, and evidently full of admiration, “ he was the flower of 
the flock, was Flint ! ” 

“ Davis 0 was a man, too, by all accounts,” said Silver. “ I 
never sailed along of him ; first with England, then with Flint, 
that’s my story ; and now here on my own account, in a manner 
of speaking. I laid by nine hundred safe, from England, and 
two thousand after Flint. That ain’t bad for a man before the 
mast — all safe in bank. ’Tain’t earning now, it’s saving does 
it, you may lay to that. Where’s all England’s men now ? I 
dunno. Where’s Flint’s 1 Why, most on ’em aboard here, and 

66 


WHAT I HEARD IN THE APPLE BARREL 


67 


glad to get the duff° — been begging before that, some on ’em. 
Old Pew, as had lost his sight, and might have thought shame, 
spends twelve hundred pound in a year, like a lord in Parlia- 
ment. Where is he now ? Well he’s dead now and under 
hatches ; but for two year before that, shiver my timbers ! the 
man was starving. He begged, and he stole, and he cut throats, 
and starved at that, by the powers ! ” 

“Well, it ain’t much use, after all,” said the young seaman. 

“ ’Tain’t much use for fools, you may lay to it — that, nor 
nothing,” cried Silver. “ But now, you look here : you’re 
young, you are, but you’re as smart as paint. I see that when 
I set my eyes on you, and I’ll talk to you like a man.” 

You may imagine how I felt when I heard this abominable 
old rogue addressing another in the very same words of flattery 
as he had used to myself. I think, if I had been able, that I 
would have killed him through the barrel. Meantime, he ran 
on, little supposing he was overheard. 

“ Here it is about gentlemen of fortune. They lives rough, 
and they risk swinging, but they eat and drink like fighting- 
cocks, and when a cruise is done, w T hy, it’s hundreds of pounds 
instead of hundreds of farthings in their pockets. Now, the 
most goes for rum and a good fling, and to sea again in their 
shirts. But that’s not the course I lay. I puts it all away, 
some here, some there, and none too much anywheres, by reason 
of suspicion. I’m fifty, mark you ; once back from this cruise, 
I set up gentleman in earnest. Time enough, too, says you. 
Ah, but I’ve lived easy in the meantime ; never denied myself 
o’ nothing heart desires, and slep’ soft and ate dainty all my 
days, but when at sea. And how did I begin ? Before the 
mast, like you ! ” 

“Well,” said the other, “but all the other money’s gone 
now, ain’t it 1 You daren’t show face in Bristol after this.” 

“ Why, where might you suppose it was ? ” asked Silver, 
derisively. 


68 


TREASURE ISLAND 


“At Bristol, in banks and places,” answered bis companion. 

“It were,” said the cook ; “ it were when we weighed anchor. 
But my old missis has it all by now. And the ‘ Spy-glass ’ is 
sold, lease and goodwill and rigging ; and the old girl’s off to 
meet me. I would tell you where, for I trust you ; but it ’ud 
make jealousy among the mates.” 

“ And can you trust your missis ? ” asked the other. 

“ Gentlemen of fortune,” returned the cook, “ usually trusts 
little among themselves, and right they are, you may lay to it. 
But I have a way with me, I have. When a mate brings a 
slip on his cable — one as knows me, I mean — it won’t be in 
the same world with old John. There was some that was , 
feared of Pew, and some that was feared of Flint : but Flint > 
his own self was feared of me. Feared he was, and proud. 
They was the roughest crew afloat, was Flint’s ; the devil him- > 
self would have been feared to go to sea with them. Well, now, 

I tell you, I’m not a boasting man, and you seen yourself how 
easy I keep company ; but when I was quartermaster, lambs >; 
wasn’t the word for Flint’s old buccaneers. Ah, you may be 
sure of yourself in old John’s ship.” 

“Well, I tell you now,” replied the lad, “I didn’t half a 
quarter like the job till I had this talk with you, John ; but 
there’s my hand on it now.” 

“ And a brave lad you were, and smart, too,” answered ] 
Silver, shaking hands so heartily that all the barrel shook, 
“and a finer figurehead for a gentleman of fortune I never 
clapped my eyes on.” 

By this time I had begun to understand the meaning of their 
terms. By a “ gentleman of fortune ” they plainly meant ' 
neither more nor less than a common pirate, and the little scene i 
that I had overheard was the last act in the corruption of one of 
the honest hands — perhaps of the last one left aboard. But on 
this point I was soon to be relieved, for Silver giving a little 
whistle, a third man strolled up and sat down by the party. 


WHAT I HEARD IN THE APPLE BARREL 


69 


“Dick’s square,” said Silver. 

“Oh, I know’d Dick was square,” returned the voice of the 
coxswain, Israel Hands. “He’s no fool, is Dick.” And he 
turned his quid and spat. “But, look here,” he went on, 
“ here’s what I want to know, Barbecue : how long are we a-going 
to stand off and on like a blessed bumboat ? I’ve had a’most 
enough o’ Cap’n Smollett; lie’s hazed me long enough, by 
thunder ! I want to go into that cabin, I do. I want their 
pickles and wines, and that.” 

“Israel,” said Silver, “your head ain’t much account, nor 
ever was. But you’re able to hear, I reckon ; least ways, your 
ears is big enough. Now, here’s what I say ; you’ll berth for- 
ward, and you’ll live hard, and you’ll speak soft, and you’ll keep 
sober, till I give the word ; and you may lay to that, my son.” 

“Well, I don’t say no, do I?” growled the coxswain. 
“What I say is, when? That’s what I say.” 

“ When ! by the powers ! ” cried Silver. “ Well, now, if you 
want to know, I’ll tell you when. The last moment I can 
manage ; and that’s when. Here’s a first-rate seaman, Cap’n 
Smollett, sails the blessed ship for us. Here’s this squire and 
doctor with a map and such — I don’t know where it is, do I ? 
No more do you, says you. Well, then, I mean this squire and 
doctor shall find the stuff, and help us to get it aboard, by the 
powers. Then we’ll see. If I was sure of you all, sons of 
double Dutchmen, I’d have Cap’n Smollett navigate us half- 
way back again before I struck.” 

“ Why, we’re all seamen aboard here, I should think,” said 
the lad Dick. 

“ We’re all foc’s’le hands, you mean,” snapped Silver. “ We 
can steer a course, but who’s to set one ? That’s what all you 
gentlemen split on, first and last. If I had my way, I’d have 
Cap’n Smollett work us back into the trades at least ; then we’d 
have no blessed miscalculations and a spoonful of water a 
day. But I know the sort you are. I’ll finish with ’em at the 


70 


TREASURE ISLAND 


island, as soon’s the blunt’s on board, and a pity it is. But 
you’re never happy till you’re drunk. Split my sides, I’ve a sick 
heart to sail with the likes of you ! ” 

“Easy all, Long John,” cried Israel. “Who’s a-crossin’ of 
you ? ” 

“ Why, how many tall ships, think ye, now, have I seen laid 
aboard ? and how many brisk lads drying in the sun at Execution 
Dock 0 ?” cried Silver, “ and all for this same hurry and hurry and 
hurry. You hear me ? I seen a thing or two at sea, I have. 
If you would on’y lay your course, and a p’int to windward, you 
would ride in carriages, you would. But not you ! I know you. 
You’ll have your mouthful of rum to-morrow, and go hang.” 

“ Everybody know ’d you was a kind of a chapling, John ; but 
there’s others as could hand and steer as well as you,” said 
Israel. “ They liked a bit o’ fun, they did. They wasn’t so 
high and dry, nohow, but took their fling, like jolly com- 
panions every one.” 

“So?” says Silver. “ Well, and where are they now? Pew 
was that sort, and he died a beggar-man. Flint was, and he 
died of rum at Savannah. Ah, they was a sweet crew, they 
was ! on’y, where are they ? ” 

“ But,” asked Dick, “ when we do lay ’em athwart, what are 
we to do with ’em, anyhow ? ” 

“ There’s the man for me ! ” cried the cook, admiringly. 
“That’s what I call business. Well, what would you think? 
Put ’em ashore like maroons? That would have been Eng- 
land’s way. Or cut ’em down like that much pork? That 
would have been Flint’s or Billy Bones’s.” 

“Billy was the man for that,” said Israel. “‘Dead men 
don’t bite,’ says he. Well, he’s dead now hisself ; he knows 
the long and short on it now ; and if ever a rough hand come 
to port, it was Billy.” 

“Right you are,” said Silver, “rough and ready. But mark 
you here : I’m an easy man — I’m quite the gentleman, says 


WHAT I HEARD IN THE APPLE BARREL 


71 


you ; but this time it’s serious. Dooty is dooty, mates. I give 
my vote — death. When I’m in Parlyment, and riding in my 
coach, I don’t want none of these sea-lawyers in the cabin 
a-coming home, unlooked for, like the devil at prayers. Wait 
is what I say ; but when the time comes, why let her rip ! ” 

“John,” cries the coxswain, “ you’re a man ! ” 

“You’ll say so, Israel, when you see,” said Silver. “Only 
one thing I claim — I claim Trelawney. I’ll wring his calf’s 
head off his body with these hands. Dick ! ” he added, break- 
ing off, “you just jump up, like a sweet lad, and get me an 
apple, to wet my pipe like.” 

You may fancy the terror I was in ! I should have leaped 
out and run for it, if I had found the strength ; but my limbs 
and heart alike misgave me. I heard Dick begin to rise, and 
then someone seemingly stopped him, and the voice of Hands 
exclaimed : — 

“ Oh, stop that ! Don’t you get sucking of that bilge, John. 
Let’s have a go of the rum.” 

“ Dick,” said Silver, “ I trust you. I’ve a gauge on the keg, 
mind. There’s the key ; you fill a pannikin and bring it up.” 

Terrified as I was, I could not help thinking to myself that 
this must have been how Mr. Arrow got the strong waters that 
destroyed him. 

Dick was gone but a little while, and during his absence 
Israel spoke straight on in the cook’s ear. It was but a word 
or two that I could catch, and yet I gathered some important 
news ; for, besides other scraps that tended to the same purpose, 
this whole clause was audible: “Not another man of them’ll 
jine.” Hence there were still faithful men on board. 

When Dick returned, one after another of the trio took the 
pannikin and drank — one “ To luck”; another with a “ Here’s 
to old Flint’’; and Silver himself saying, in a kind of song, 
“ Here’s to ourselves, and hold your luff , 0 plenty of prizes and 
plenty of duff.” 


72 


TREASURE ISLAND 


J ust then a sort of brightness fell upon me in the barrel, and, 
looking up, I found the moon had risen, and was silvering the 
mizzen-top and shining white on the luff of the fore-sail ; and 
almost at the same time the voice of the look-out shouted 
“Land ho!” 


CHAPTER XII 


COUNCIL OF WAR 

There was a great rush of feet across the deck. I could 
hear people tumbling up from the cabin and the foc’s’le ; and, 
slipping in an instant outside my barrel, I dived behind the 
fore-sail, made a double towards the stern, and came out upon 
the open deck in time to join Hunter and Dr. Livesey in the 
rush for the weather bow. 

There all hands were already congregated. A belt of fog had 
lifted almost simultaneously with the appearance of the moon. 
Away to the south-west of us we saw two low hills, about a 
couple of miles apart, and rising behind one of them a third 
and higher hill, whose peak was still buried in the fog. All 
three seemed sharp and conical in figure. 

So much I saw, almost in a dream, for I had not yet re- 
covered from my horrid fear of a minute or two before. And 
then I heard the voice of Captain Smollett issuing orders. 
The Hispaniola was laid a couple of points nearer the wind, 
and now sailed a course that would just clear the island on the 
east. 

“And now, men,” said the captain, when all was sheeted 
home, “ has any one of you ever seen that land ahead ? ” 

“I have, sir,” said Silver. “ I’ve watered there with a 
trader I was cook in.” 

“The anchorage is on the south, behind an islet, I fancy? ” 
asked the captain. 


73 


74 


TREASURE ISLAND 


“Yes, sir ; Skeleton Island they calls it. It were a main 
place for pirates once, and a hand we had on board knowed all 
their names for it. That hill to the nor’ard they call the Fore- 
mast Hill ; there are three hills in a row running south’ard — 
fore, main, and mizzen, sir. But the main — that’s the big un 
with the cloud on it — they usually calls the Spy-glass, by rea- 
son of a look-out they kept when they was in the anchorage 
cleaning; for it’s there they cleaned their ships, sir, asking 
your pardon.” 

“ I have a chart here,” says Captain Smollett. “ See if 
that’s the place.” 

Long John’s eyes burned in his head as he took the chart ; 
but, by the fresh look of the paper, I knew he was doomed to 
disappointment. This was not the map we found in Billy 
Bones’s chest, but an accurate copy, complete in all things — 
names and heights and soundings — with the single exception 
of the red crosses and the written notes. Sharp as must have 
been his annoyance, Silver had the strength of mind to hide it. 

“Yes, sir,” said he, “ this is the spot to be sure ; and very 
prettily d rawed out. Who might have done that, I wonder? 
The pirates were too ignorant, I reckon. Ay, here it is : 
‘ Capt. Kidd’s Anchorage ’ 0 — just the name my shipmate 
called it. There’s a strong current runs along the south, and 
then away nor’ard up the west coast. Right you was, sir,” 
says he, “to haul your wind and keep the weather of the 
island. Leastways, if such was your intention as to enter and 
careen, and there ain’t no better place for that in these 
waters.” 

“ Thank you, my man,” says Captain Smollett. “ I’ll ask 
you, later on, to give us a help. You may go.” 

I was surprised at the coolness with which John avowed his 
knowledge of the island ; and I own I was half-frightened 
when I saw him drawing nearer to myself. He did not know, 
to be sure, that I had overheard his council from the apple 


COUNCIL OF WAR 


75 


barrel, and yet I had, by this time, taken such a horror of his 
cruelty, duplicity, and power, that I could scarce conceal a 
shudder when he laid his hand upon my arm. 

“Ah,” says he, “this here is a sweet spot, this island — a 
sweet spot for a lad to get ashore on. You’ll bathe, and you’ll 
climb trees, and you’ll hunt goats, you wdll ; and you’ll get 
aloft on them hills like a goat yourself. Why, it makes me 
young again. I was going to forget my timber leg, I was. 
It’s a pleasant thing to be young, and have ten toes, and you 
may lay to that. When you want to go a bit of exploring, 
you just ask old John, and he’ll put up a snack 0 for you to 
take along.” 

And clapping me in the friendliest way upon the shoulder, 
he hobbled off forward and went below. 

Captain Smollett, the squire, and Dr. Livesey were talking 
together on the quarter-deck, and, anxious as I was to tell 
them my story, I durst not interrupt them openly. While I 
was still casting about in my thoughts to find some probable 
excuse, Dr. Livesey called me to his side. He had left his pipe 
below, and being a slave to tobacco, had meant that I should 
fetch it ; but as soon as I was near enough to speak and not 
to be overheard, I broke out immediately : “ Doctor, let me 
speak. Get the captain and squire down to the cabin, and 
then make some pretence to send for me. I have terrible 
news.” 

The doctor changed countenance a little, but next moment 
he was master himself. 

“ Thank you, Jim,” said he, quite loudly, “ that was all I 
wanted to know,” as if he had asked me a question. 

And with that he turned on his heel and rejoined the other 
two. They spoke together for a little, and though none of 
them started, or raised his voice, or so much as whistled, it 
was plain enough that Dr. Livesey had communicated my 
request; for the next thing that I heard was the captain giv- 


76 


TREASURE ISLAND 


iug an order to Job Anderson, and all hands were piped on 
deck. 

“ My lads,” said Captain Smollett, “ I’ve a word to say to 
you. This land that we have sighted is the place we have 
been sailing for. Mr. Trelawney, being a very open-handed 
gentleman, as we all know, has just asked me a word or two, 
and as I was able to tell him that every man on board had 
done his duty, alow and aloft, as I never ask to see it done 
better, why, he and I and the doctor are going below to the cabin 
to drink your health and luck, and you’ll have grog served out 
for you to drink our health and luck. I’ll tell you what I 
think of this : I think it handsome. And if you think as I 
do, you’ll give a good sea cheer for the gentleman that does it.” 

The cheer followed — that was a matter of course ; but it 
rang out so full and hearty, that I confess I could hardly be- 
lieve these same men were plotting for our blood. 

“ One more cheer for Cap’n Smollett,” cried Long John, 
when the first had subsided. 

And this also was given with a will. 

On the top of that the three gentlemen went below, and not 
long after, word was sent forward that Jim Hawkins was 
wanted in the cabin. 

I found them all three seated round the table, a bottle of 
Spanish wine and some raisins before them, and the doctor 
smoking away, with his wig on his lap, and that, I knew, was 
a sign that he was agitated. The stern window was open, for 
it was a warm night, and you could see the moon shining be- 
hind on the ship’s wake. 

“Now, Hawkins,” said the squire, “you have something to 
say. Speak up.” 

I did as I was bid, and, as short as I could make it, told the 
whole details of Silver’s conversation. Nobody interrupted me 
till I was done, nor did any one of the three of them make so 
much as a movement, but they kept their eyes upon my face 
from first to last. 


COUNCIL OF WAR 


77 


“Jim,” said Dr. Livesey, “take a seat.” 

And they made me sit down at table beside them, poured me 
out a glass of wine, filled my hands with raisins, and all three, 
one after the other, and each with a bow, drank my good health, 
and their service to me, for my luck and courage. 

“Now, captain,” said the squire, “you were right, and I was 
wrong. I own myself an ass, and I await your orders.” 

“No more an ass than I, sir,” returned the captain. “ I 
never heard of a crew that meant to mutiny but what showed 
signs before, for any man that had an eye in his head to see the 
mischief and take steps according . But this crew,” he added, 
“ beats me.” 

“ Captain,” said the doctor, “ with your permission, that’s 
Silver. A very remarkable man.” 

“ He’d look remarkably well from a yard-arm, sir,” returned 
the captain. “ But this is talk ; this don’t lead to anything. 
I see three or four points, and with Mr. Trelawney’s permission, 
I’ll name them.” 

“You, sir, are the captain. It is for you to speak,” says Mr. 
Trelawney, grandly. 

“First point,” began Mr. Smollett. “We must go on, be- 
cause we can’t turn back. If I gave the word to go about, they 
would rise at once. Second point, we have time before us — 
at least, until this treasure’s found. Third point, there are 
faithful hands. Now, sir, it’s got to come to blows sooner or 
later ; and what I propose is, to take time by the forelock, as 
the saying is, and come to blows some fine day when they least 
expect it. We can count, I take it, on your own home ser- 
vants, Mr. Trelawney ? ” 

“ As upon myself,” declared the squire. 

“ Three,” reckoned the captain, “ ourselves make seven, count- 
ing Hawkins here. Now, about the honest hands ? ” 

“ Most likely Trelawney’s own men,” said the doctor ; “ those 
he had picked up for himself, before he lit on Silver.” 


78 


TREASURE ISLAND 


“ Nay,” replied the squire, “ Hands was one of mine.” 

“ I did think I could have trusted Hands,” added the captain. 

“ And to think that they’re all Englishmen ! ” broke out the 
squire. “ Sir, I could find it in my heart to blow the ship up.” 

“ Well, gentlemen,” said the captain, “ the best that I can 
say is not much. We must lay to, if you please, and keep a 
bright look out. It’s trying on a man, I know. It would be 
pleasanter to come to blows. But there’s no help for it till 
we know our men. LaCy to, and whistle for a wind, that’s my 
view.” 

“Jim here,” said the doctor, “can help us more than anyone. 
The men are not shy with him, and Jim is a noticing lad.” 

“ Hawkins, I put prodigious faith in you,” added the squire. 

I began to feel pretty desperate at this, for I felt altogether 
helpless ; and yet, by an odd train of circumstances, it was in- 
deed through me that safety came. In the meantime, talk as 
we pleased, there were only seven out of the twenty-six on whom 
we knew we could rely ; and out of these seven one was a 
boy, so that the grown men on our side were six to their nine- 
teen. 


PART III 

MY SHORE ADVENTURE 


CHAPTER XIII 

HOW MY SHOEE ADVENTUEE BEGAN 

The appearance of the island when I came on deck next 
morning was altogether changed. Although the breeze had 
now utterly ceased, we had made a great deal of way during 
the night, and were now lying becalmed about half a mile to 
the south-east of the low eastern coast. Grey-coloured woods 
covered a large part of the surface. This even tint was indeed 
broken up by streaks of yellow sandbreak in the lower lands, 
and by many tall trees of the pine family, out-topping the 
others — some singly, some in clumps ; but the general colour- 
ing was uniform and sad. The hills ran up clear above the 
vegetation in spires of naked rock. All were strangely shaped, 
and the Spy-glass, which was by three or four hundred feet the 
tallest on the island, was likewise the strangest in configura- 
tion, running up sheer from almost every side, and then sud- 
denly cut off at the top like a pedestal to put a statue on. 

The Hispaniola was rolling scuppers 0 under in the ocean 
swell. The booms were tearing at the blocks, the rudder was 
banging to and fro, and the whole ship creaking, groaning, and 
jumping like a manufactory. I had to cling tight to the back- 
stay, and the world turned giddily before my eyes ; for though 
I was a good enough sailor when there was way on, this stand- 

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TREASURE ISLAND 


ing still and being rolled about like a bottle was a thing I never 
learned to stand without a qualm or so, above all in the morn- 
ing, on an empty stomach. 

Perhaps it was this — perhaps it was the look of the island, 
with its grey, melancholy woods, and wild stone spires, and the 
surf that we could both see and hear foaming and thundering 
on the steep beach — at least, although the sun shone bright 
and hot, and the shore birds were fishing and crying all around 
us, and you would have thought anyone would have been glad 
to get to land after being so long at sea, my heart sank, as the 
saying is, into my boots ; and from that first look onward, I 
hated the very thought of Treasure Island. 

We had a dreary morning’s work before us, for there was no 
sign of any wind, and the boats had to be got out and manned, 
and the ship warped 0 three or four 'miles round the corner of 
the island, and up the narrow passage to the haven behind 
Skeleton Island. I volunteered for one of the boats, where I 
had, of course, no business. The heat was sweltering, and the 
men grumbled fiercely over their work. Anderson was in com- 
mand of my boat, and instead of keeping the crew in order, he 
grumbled as loud as the worst. 

“Well,” he said, with an oath, “it’s not for ever.” 

I thought this was a very bad sign ; for, up to that day, the 
men had gone briskly and willingly about their business ; but 
the very sight of the island had relaxed the cords of discipline. 

All the way in, Long J ohn stood by the steersman and conned 0 
the ship. He knew the passage like the palm of his hand ; 
and though the man in the chains got everywhere more water 
than was down in the chart, John never hesitated once. 

“ There’s a strong scour with the ebb,” he said, “ and this 
here passage has been dug out, in a manner of speaking, with 
a spade.” 

We brought up just where the anchor was in the chart, about 
a third of a mile from each shore, the mainland on one side, 


HOW MY SHORE ADVENTURE BEGAN 


81 


and Skeleton Island on the other. The bottom was clear sand. 
The plunge of our anchor sent up clouds of birds wheeling and 
crying over the woods ; but in less than a minute they were 
down again, and all was once more silent. 

The place was entirely land-locked, buried in woods, the trees 
coming right down to high-water mark, the shores mostly flat, 
and the hilltops standing round at a distance in a sort of am- 
phitheatre, one here, one there. Two little rivers, or, rather, two 
swamps, emptied out into this pond, as you might call it ; and 
the foliage round that part of the shore had a kind of poison- 
ous brightness. From the ship, we could see nothing of the 
house or stockade, for they were quite buried among trees ; and 
if it had not been for the chart on the companion, w T e might 
have been the first that had ever anchored there since the island 
arose out of the seas. 

There was not a breath of air moving, nor a sound but that 
of the surf booming half a mile away along the beaches and 
against the rocks outside. A peculiar stagnant smell hung 
over the anchorage — a smell of sodden leaves and rotting tree 
trunks. I observed the doctor sniffing and sniffing, like some- 
one tasting a bad egg. 

“ I don’t know about treasure,” he said, “ but I’ll stake my 
wig there’s fever here.” 

If the conduct of the men had been alarming in the boat, it 
became truly threatening when they had come aboard. They 
lay about the deck growling together in talk. The slightest 
order was received with a black look, and grudgingly and care- 
lessly obeyed. Even the honest hands must have caught the 
infection, for there was not one man aboard to mend another. 
Mutiny, it was plain, hung over us like a thunder-cloud. 

And it was not only we of the cabin party who perceived the 
danger. Long John was hard at work going from group to 
group, spending himself in good advice, and as for example no 
man could have shown a better. He fairly outstripped himself 

G 


82 


TREASURE ISLAND 


in willingness and civility ; he was all smiles to everyone. If 
an order were given, John would be on his crutch in an instant, 
with the cheeriest “ Ay, ay, sir ! ” in the world * and when there 
was nothing else to do, he kept up one song after another, as if 
to conceal the discontent of the rest. 

Of all the gloomy features of that gloomy afternoon, this 
obvious anxiety on the part of Long John appeared the worst. 

We held a council in the cabin. 

“ Sir,” said the captain, “ if I risk another order the whole 
ship’ll come about our ears by the run. You see, sir, here it is. 
I get a rough answer, do I not ? Well, if I speak back, pikes 
will be going in two shakes ; if I don’t, Silver will see there’s 
something under that, and the game’s up. Now, we’ve only one 
man to rely on.” 

“ And who is that 1 ” asked the squire. 

“ Silver, sir,” returned the captain ; “ he’s as anxious as you 
and I to smother things up. This is a tiff 0 ; he’d soon talk ’em 
out of it if he had the chance, and what I propose to do is to 
give him the chance. Let’s allow the men an afternoon ashore. 
If they all go, why, we’ll fight the ship. If they none of them 
go, well, then, we hold the cabin, and God defend the right. 
If some go, you mark my words, sir, Silver’ll bring ’em aboard 
again as mild as lambs.” 

It was so decided ; loaded pistols were served out to all the 
sure men ; Hunter, J oyce, and Eedruth were taken into our 
confidence, and received the news with less surprise and a better 
spirit than we had looked for, and then the captain went on deck 
and addressed the crew. 

“ My lads,” said he, “ we’ve had a hot day, and are all tired 
and out of sorts. A turn ashore’ll hurt nobody — the boats are 
still in the water ; you can take the gigs, 0 and as many as 
please can go ashore for the afternoon. I’ll fire a gun half an 
hour before sundown.” 

I believe the silly fellows must have thought they would 


HOW MY SHORE ADVENTURE BEGAN 


83 


break their shins over treasure as soon as they were landed ; for 
they all came out of their sulks in a moment, and gave a cheer 
that started the echo in a far-away hill, and sent the birds once 
more flying and squalling round the anchorage. 

The captain was too bright to be in the way. He whipped 
out of sight in a moment, leaving Silver to arrange the party ; 
and I fancy it was as well he did so. Had he been on deck, 
he could no longer so much as have pretended not to under- 
stand the situation. It was as plain as day. Silver was the 
captain, and a mighty rebellious crew he had of it. The honest 
hands — and I was soon to see it proved that there were such 
on board — must have been very stupid fellows. Or, rather, I 
suppose the truth was this, that all hands were disaffected by 
the example of the ringleaders — only some more, some less ; 
and a few r , being good fellows in the main, could neither be led 
nor driven any further. It is one thing to be idle and skulk, 
and quite another to take a ship and murder a number of inno- 
cent men. 

At last, however, the party was made up. Six fellows were 
to stay on board, and the remaining thirteen, including Silver, 
began to embark. 

Then it was that there came into my head the first of the 
mad notions that contributed so much to save our lives. If six 
men w T ere left by Silver, it was plain our party could not take 
and fight the ship ; and since only six were left, it was equally 
plain that the cabin party had no present need of my assistance. 
It occurred to me at once to go ashore. In a jiffy 1 had slipped 
over the side, and curled up in the fore-sheets of the nearest 
boat, and almost at the same moment she shoved off. 

No one took notice of me, only the bow oar saying, “ Is that 
you, Jim 1 Keep your head down.” But Silver, from the other 
boat, looked sharply over and called out to know if that were 
me ; and from that moment I began to regret what I had done. 

The crews raced for the beach ; but the boat I was in, having 


84 


TREASURE ISLAND 


some start, and being at once the lighter and the better manned, 
shot far ahead of her consort, and the bow had struck among 
the shore-side trees, and I had caught a branch and swung 
myself out, and plunged into the nearest thicket, while Silver 
and the rest were still a hundred yards behind. 

“ Jim, Jim ! ” I heard him shouting. 

But you may suppose I paid no heed; jumping, ducking, and 
breaking through, I ran straight before my nose, till I could run 
no longer. 


CHAPTER XIV 


THE FIRST BLOW 

I was so pleased at having given the slip to John Long, that 
I began to enjoy myself and look around me with some interest 
on the strange land that I was in. 

I had crossed a marshy tract full of willows, bulrushes, and 
odd, outlandish, swampy trees ; and I had now come out upon 
the skirts of an open piece of undulating, sandy country, about 
a mile long, dotted with a few pines, and a great number of 
contorted trees, not unlike the oak in growth, but pale in the 
foliage, like willows. On the far side of the open stood one of 
the hills, with two quaint, craggy peaks, shining vividly in the 
sun. 

I now felt for the first time the joy of exploration. The isle 
was uninhabited ; my shipmates I had left behind, and nothing 
lived in front of me but dumb brutes and fowls. I turned 
hither and thither among the trees. Here and there were flower- 
ing plants, unknown to me ; here and there I saw snakes, and 
one raised his head from a ledge of rock and hissed at me with 
a noise not unlike the spinning of a top. Little did I suppose 
that he was a deadly enemy, and that the noise was the famous 
rattle. 

Then I came to a long thicket of these oak-like trees — live, 
or evergreen, oaks, I heard afterwards they should be called — 
which grew low along the sand like brambles, the boughs curi- 
ously' twisted, the foliage compact like thatch. The thicket 

85 


86 


TREASURE ISLAND 


stretched down from the top of one of the sandy knolls, spread- 
ing and growing taller as it went, until it reached the margin 
of the broad, reedy fen, through which the nearest of the little 
rivers soaked its way into the anchorage. The marsh was 
steaming in the strong sun, and the outline of the Spy-glass 
trembled through the haze. 

All at once there began to go a sort of bustle among the bul- 
rushes ; a wild duck flew up with a quack, another followed, 
and soon over the whole surface of the marsh a great cloud of 
birds hung screaming and circling in the air. I judged at once 
that some of my shipmates must be drawing near along the 
borders of the fen. Nor was I deceived ; for soon I heard the 
very distant and low tones of a human voice, which, as I con- 
tinued to give ear, grew steadily louder and nearer. 

This put me in a great fear, and I crawled under cover of the 
nearest live-oak, and squatted there, hearkening, as silent as a 
mouse. 

Another voice answered ; and then the first voice, which I 
now recognised to be Silver’s, Once more took up the story, and 
ran on for a long while in a stream, only now and again inter- 
rupted by the other. By the sound they must have been talk- 
ing earnestly, and almost fiercely ; but no distinct word came 
to my hearing. 

At last the speakers seemed to have paused, and perhaps to 
have sat down ; for not only did they cease to draw any nearer, 
but the birds themselves began to grow more quiet, and to settle 
again to their places in the swamp. 

And now I began to feel that I was neglecting my business ; 
that since I had been so foolhardy as to come ashore with these 
desperadoes, the least I could do was to overhear them at their 
councils ; and that my plain and obvious duty was to draw as 
close as I could manage, under the favourable ambush of the 
crouching trees. 

I could tell the direction of the speakers pretty exactly, not 


THE FIRST BLOW 


87 


only by the sound of their voices, but by the behaviour of the 
few birds that still hung in alarm above the heads of the in- 
truders. 

Crawling on all-fours, I made steadily but slowly towards 
tljem ; till at last, raising my head to an aperture among the 
leaves, I could see clear down into a little green dell beside the 
marsh, and closely set about with trees, where long John Silver 
and another of the crew stood face to face in conversation. 

The sun beat full upon them. Silver had thrown his hat 
beside him on the ground, and his great, smooth, blond face, all 
shining with heat, was lifted to the other man’s in a kind of 
appeal. 

“ Mate,” he w r as saying, “ it’s because I thinks gold dust of 
you — gold dust, and you may lay to that ! If I hadn’t took 
to you like pitch, do you think I’d have been here a-w r arning of 
you ? All’s up — you can’t make nor mend ; it’s to save your 
neck that I’m a-speaking, and if one of the wild ’uns knev T it, 
where ’ud I be, Tom — now, tell me, where ’ud I be ? ” 

“Silver,” said the other man — and I observed he was not 
only red in the face, but spoke as hoarse as a crow, and his 
voice shook, too, like a taut rope — “ Silver,” says he, “you’re 
old, and you’re honest, or has the name for it; and -you’ve 
money, too, which lots of poor sailors hasn’t ; and you’re brave, 
or I’m mistook. And will you tell me you’ll let yourself be led 
away with that kind of a mess of swabs % not you ! As sure 
as God sees me, I’d sooner lose my hand. If I turn agin my 
dooty — ” 

And then all of a sudden he was interrupted by a noise. I 
had found one of the honest hands — well, here, at that same 
moment, came news of another. Far away out in the marsh 
there arose, all of a sudden, a sound like the cry of anger, then 
another on the back of it ; and then one horrid, long-drawn 
scream. The rocks of the Spy-glass re-echoed it a score of 
times; the whole troop of marsh-birds rose again, darkening 


88 


TREASURE ISLAND 


heaven, with a simultaneous whirr ; and long after that death 
yell was still ringing in my brain, silence had re-established its 
empire, and only the rustle of the redescending birds and the 
boom of the distant surges disturbed the languor of the after- 
noon. 

Tom had leaped at the sound, like a horse at the spur; but 
Silver had not winked an eye. He stood where he was, resting 
lightly on his crutch, watching his companion like a snake 
about to spring. 

“John,” said the sailor, stretching out his hand. 

“ Hands off ! ” cried Silver, leaping back a yard, as it seemed 
to me, with the speed and security of a trained gymnast. 

“Hands off, if you like, John Silver,” said the other. “ It’s 
a black conscience that can make you feared of me. But, in 
heaven’s name, tell me what was that ? ” 

“ That 1 ” returned Silver, smiling away, but warier that ever, 
his eye a mere pin-point in his big face, but gleaming like a 
crumb of glass. “ That ! Oh, I reckon that’ll be Alan.” 

And at this poor Tom flashed out like a hero. 

“Alan ! ” he cried. “ Then rest his soul for a true seaman ! 
And as for you, John Silver, long you’ve been a mate of mine, 
but you’re mate of mine no more. If I die like a dog, I’ll die 
in my dooty. You’ve killed Alan, have you? Kill me, too, if 
you can. But I defies you.” 

Aud with that, this brave fellow turned his back directly on 
the cook, and set off walking for the beach. But he was not 
destined to go far. With a ciy, John seized the branch of a 
tree, whipped the crutch out of his armpit, and sent that un- 
couth missile hurtling through the air. It struck poor Tom, 
point foremost, and with stunning violence, right between the 
shoulders in the middle of his back. His hands flew up, he gave 
a sort of gasp, and fell. 

Whether he were injured much or little, none could ever tell. 
Like enough, to judge from the sound, his back was broken on 


THE FIRST BLOW 


89 


the spot. But he had no time given him to recover. Silver, 
agile as a monkey, even without leg or crutch, was on the top 
of him next moment, and had twice buried his knife up to the 
hilt in that defenceless body. From my place of ambush, I 
could hear him pant aloud as he struck the blows. 

I do not know what it rightly is to faint, but I do know that 
for the next little while the whole world swam away from before 
me in a whirling mist ; Silver, and the birds, and the tall Spy- 
glass hilltop, going round and round and topsy-turvy before my 
eyes, and all manner of bells ringing and distant voices shouting 
in my ear. 

When I came again to myself, the monster had pulled himself 
together, his crutch under his arm, his hat upon his head. 
Just before him Tom lay motionless upon the sward ; but the 
murderer minded him not a whit, cleansing his blood-stained 
knife the while upon a wisp of grass. Everything else was un- 
changed, the sun still shining mercilessly on the steaming marsh 
and the tall pinnacle of the mountain, and I could scarce 
persuade myself that murder had been actually done, and a 
human life cruelly cut short a moment since, before my eyes. 

But now John put his hand into his pocket, brought out a 
whistle, and blew upon it several modulated blasts, that rang 
far across the heated air. I could not tell, of course, the mean- 
ing of the signal ; but it instantly awoke my fears. More men 
would be coming. I might be discovered. They had already 
slain two of the honest people ; after Tom and Alan, might not 
I come next ? 

Instantly I began to extricate myself and crawl back again, 
with what speed and silence I could manage, to the more open 
portion of the wood. As I did so, I could hear hails coming 
and going between the old buccaneer and his comrades, and this 
sound of danger lent me wings. As soon as I was clear of the 
thicket, I ran as I never ran before, scarce minding the direc- 
tion of my flight, so long as it led me from the murderers ; 


90 


TREASURE ISLAND 


and as I ran, fear grew and grew upon me, until it turned 
into a kind of frenzy. 

Indeed, could anyone be more entirely lost than I ? When 
the gun fired, how should I dare to go down to the boats among 
those fiends, still smoking from their crime? Would not the 
first of them who saw me wring my neck like a snipe’s ? Would 
not my absence itself be an evidence to them of my alarm, and 
therefore of my fatal knowledge ? It was all over, I thought. 
Good-bye to the Hispaniola ; good-bye to the squire, the doctor, 
and the captain ! There was nothing left for me but death by 
starvation, or death by the hands of the mutineers. 

All this while, as I say, I was still running, and, without 
taking any notice, I had dfawn near to the foot of the little hill 
with the two peaks, and had got into a part of the island 
where the live-oaks grew more widely apart, and seemed more 
like forest trees in their bearing and dimensions. Mingled with 
these were a few scattered pines, some fifty, some nearer seventy, 
feet high. The air, too, smelt more freshly than down beside 
.the marsh. 

And here a fresh alarm brought me to a standstill with a 
thumping heart. 


CHAPTER XV 


THE MAN OF THE ISLAND 

From the side of the hill, which was here steep and stony, 
a spout of gravel was dislodged, and fell rattling and bounding 
through the trees. My eyes turned instinctively in that direc- 
tion, and I saw a figure leap with great rapidity behind the 
trunk of a pine. What it was, whether bear or man or mon- 
key, I could in nowise tell. It seemed dark and shaggy ; more 
I knew not. But the terror of this new apparition brought me 
to a stand. 

I was now, it seemed, cut off upon both sides ; behind me 
the murderers, before me this lurking nondescript. And im- 
mediately I began to prefer the dangers that I knew to those 
I knew not. Silver himself appeared less terrible in contrast 
with this creature of the woods, and I turned on my heel, and, 
looking sharply behind me over my shoulder, began to retrace 
my steps in the direction of the boats. 

Instantly the figure reappeared, and making a wide circuit, 
began to head me off. I was tired, at any rate ; but had I been 
as fresh as when I rose, I could see it was in vain for me to 
contend in speed with such an adversary. From trunk to trunk 
the creature flitted like a deer, running manlike on two legs, 
but unlike any man that I have ever seen, stooping almost 
double as it ran. Yet a man it was; I could no longer be in 
doubt about that. 

I began to recall what I had heard pf cannibals. I was within 
91 


92 


TREASURE ISLAND 


an ace of calling for help. But the mere fact that he was a 
man, however wild, had somewhat reassured me, and my fear of 
Silver began to revive in proportion. I stood still, therefore, 
and cast about for some method of escape ; and as I was so 
thinking, the recollection of my pistol flashed into my mind. 
As soon as I remembered I was not defenceless, courage glowed 
again in my heart ; and I set my face resolutely for this man of 
the island, and walked briskly towards him. 

He was concealed by this time, behind another tree trunk ; but 
he must have been watching me closely, for as soon as I began 
to move in his direction he reappeared and took a step to meet 
me. Then he hesitated, drew back, came forward again, and at 
last, to my wonder and confusion, threw himself on his knees 
and held out his clasped hands in supplication. 

At that I once more stopped. 

“ Who are you 1 ” I asked. 

“Ben Gunn,” he answered, and his voice sounded hoarse and 
awkward, like a rusty lock. “ I’m poor Ben Gunn, I am ; and 
I haven’t spoke with a Christian these three years.” 

I could now see that he was a white man like myself, and 
that his features were even pleasing. His skin, wherever it 
was exposed, was burnt by the sun ; even his lips were black ; 
and his fair eyes looked quite startling in so dark a face. Of 
all the beggar-men that I have seen or fancied, he was the chief 
for raggedness. He was clothed with tatters of old ship’s 
canvas and old sea cloth ; and this extraordinary patchwork 
was all held together by a system of the most various and 
incongruous fastenings, brass buttons, bits of stick, and loops 
of tany gaskin. 0 About his waist he wore an old brass-buckled 
leather belt, which was the one thing solid in his whole accou- 
trement. 

“ Three years ! ” I cried. “ Were you shipwrecked ? ” 

“Nay, mate,” said he — “marooned.” 

I had heard the word, and I knew it stood for a horrible 


THE MAN OF THE ISLAND 


93 


kind of punishment common enough among the buccaneers, in 
which the offender is put ashore with a little powder and shot, 
and left behind on some desolate and distant island. 

“ Marooned three years agone,” he continued, “ and lived on 
goats since then, and berries, and oysters. Wherever a man 
is, says I, a man can do for himself. But, mate, my heart is 
sore for Christian diet. You mightn’t happen to have a piece 
of cheese about you, now? No? Well, many’s the long night 
I’ve dreamed of cheese — toasted, mostly — and woke up again, 
and here I were.” 

“ If ever I can get aboard again,” said I, “ you shall have 
cheese by the stone . 0 ” 

All this time he had been feeling the stuff' of my jacket, 
smoothing my hands, looking at my boots, and generally, in 
the intervals of his speech, showing a childish pleasure in the 
presence of a fellow-creature. But at my last words he perked 
up into a kind of startled slyness. 

“If ever you can get aboard again, says you?” he repeated. 
“ Why, now, who’s to hinder you? ” 

“Not you, I know,” was my reply. 

“And right you was,” he cried. “Now you — what do you 
call yourself, mate ? ” 

“Jim,” I told him. 

“ Jim, Jim,” says he, quite pleased apparently. “Well, now, 
Jim, I’ve lived that rough as you’d be ashamed to hear of. 
Now, for instance, you wouldn’t think I had had a pious 
mother — to look at me ? ” he asked. 

“Why, no, not in particular,” I answered. 

“Ah, well,” said he, “but I had — remarkable pious. And 
I was a civil, pious boy, and could rattle off my catechism that 
fast, as you couldn’t tell one word from another. And here’s 
what it come to, Jim, and it begun with chuck-farthen 0 on the 
blessed graves-stones ! That’s what it begun with, but it went 
further’n that; and so my mother told me, and predicked the 


94 


TREASURE ISLAND 


whole, she did, the pious woman ! But it were Providence that 
put me here. IVe thought it all out in this here lonely island, 
and I’m back on piety. You don’t catch me tasting rum so 
much; but just a thimbleful for luck, of course, the first chance. 
I have. I’m bound I’ll be good, and I see the way, too. And, 
Jim,” — looking all round him, and lowering his voice to a 
whisper — “ I’m rich.” 

I now felt sure that the poor fellow had gone crazy in his 
solitude, and I suppose I must have shown the feeling in my 
face ; for he repeated the statement hotly : — 

“ Rich ! rich ! I says. And I’ll tell you what : I’ll make a 
man of you, Jim. Ah, Jim, you’ll bless your stars, you will, 
you was the first that found me ! ” 

And at this there came suddenly a lowering shadow over his 
face, and he tightened his grasp upon my hand, and raised a 
forefinger threateningly before my eyes. 

“Now, Jim, you tell me true: that ain’t Flint’s ship?” he , 
asked. 

At this I had a happy inspiration. I began to believe that 
I had found an ally, and I answered him at once. 

“ It’s not Flint’s ship, and Flint is dead ; but I’ll tell you 
true, as you ask me — there are some of Flint’s hands aboard ; 
worse luck for the rest of us.” 

“ Not a man — with one — leg ? ” he gasped. 

“Silver?” I asked. 

“ Ah, Silver ! ” says he ; “ that were his name.” 

“ He’s the cook ; and the ringleader, too.” 

He was still holding me by the wrist, and at that he gave it \ 
quite a wring. 

“If you was sent by Long John,” he said, “I’m as good' 
as pork, and I know it. But where was you, do you sup- 
pose ? ” 

I had made my mind up in a moment, and by way of answer 
told him the whole story of our voyage, and the predicament in 


THE MAN OF THE ISLAND 


95 


which we found ourselves. He heard me with the keenest in- 
terest, and when I had done he patted me on the head. 

“You’re a good lad, Jim,” he said; “ and you’re all in a clove- 
hitch , 0 ain’t you? Well, you just put your trust in Ben Gunn 

— Ben Gunn’s the man to do it. Would you think it likely, 
now, that your squire would prove a liberal-minded one in case 
of help — him being in a clove-hitch, as you remark ? ” 

I told him the squire was the most liberal of men. 

“ Ay, but you see,” returned Ben Gunn, “ I didn’t mean giv- 
ing me a gate to keep, and a shuit of livery clothes, and such ; 
that’s not my mark, Jim. What I mean is, would he be likely 
to come down to the toon of, say one thousand pounds out of 
money that’s as good as a man’s own already ? ” 

“I am sure he would,” said I. “As it was, all hands were 
to share.” 

“ And a passage home?” he added, with a look of great 
shrewdness. 

“ Why,” I cried, “ the squire’s a gentleman. And, besides, if 
we got rid of the others, we should want you to help work the 
vessel home.” 

“ Ah,” said he, “ so you would.” And he seemed very much 
relieved. 

“Now, I’ll tell you what,” he went on. “So much I’ll tell 
you, and no more. I were in Flint’s ship when he buried the 
treasure ; he and six along — six strong seamen. They were 
ashore nigh on a week, and us standing off and on in the old 
Walrus. One fine day up went the signal, and here come Flint 
by himself in a little boat, and his head done up in a blue scarf. 
The sun was getting up, and mortal white he looked about the 
cutwater . 0 But, there he was, you mind, and the six all dead 

— dead and buried. How he done it, not a man aboard us 
could make out. It was battle, murder, and sudden death, 
leastways — him against six. Billy Bones was the mate; 
Long John, he was quartermaster ; and they asked him where 


96 


TREASURE ISLAND 


the treasure was. ‘ Ah,’ says he, ‘ you can go ashore, if you 
like, and stay,’ he says ; ‘but as for the ship, she’ll beat up for 
more, by thunder ! ’ That’s what he said. 

“Well, I was in another ship three years back, and we 
sighted this island. ‘ Boys,’ said I, ‘ here’s Flint’s treasure ; 
let’s land and find it.’ The cap’n was displeased at that ; but 
my messmates were all of a mind, and landed. Twelve days 
they looked for it, and every day they had the worst word for 
me, until one fine morning all hands went aboard. ‘ As for you, 
Benjamin Gunn,’ says they, ‘ here’s a musket,’ they says, ‘ and a 
spade, and pickaxe. You can stay here, and find Flint’s money 
for yourself,’ they says. 

“ Well, Jim, three years have I been here, and not a bite of 
Christian diet from that day to this. But now, you look here ; 
look at me. Do I look like a man before the mast? No, says 
you. Nor I weren’t, neither, I says.” 

And with that he winked and pinched me hard. 

“Just you mention them words to your squire, Jim” — he 
went on : “ Nor he weren’t, neither, — that’s the words. Three 
years he were the man of this island, light and dark, fair and 
rain ; and sometimes he would, maybe, think upon a prayer 
(says you), and sometimes he would, maybe, think of his old 
mother, so be as she’s alive (you’ll say) ; but the most part of 
Gunn’s time (this is what you’ll say) — the most part of his 
time was took up with another matter. And then you’ll give 
him a nip, like I do.” 

And he pinched me again in the most confidential manner. 

“ Then,” he continued — “ then you’ll up, and you’ll say this : 
— Gunn is a good man (you’ll say), and he puts a precious sight 
more confidence — a precious sight, mind that — in a gen’leman 
born than in these gen’lemen of fortune, having been one hisself.” 

“Well,” I said, “I don’t understand one word that you’ve 
been saying. But that’s neither here nor there ; for how am I 
to get on board ? ” 


THE MAN OF THE ISLAND 


*97 


“Ah,” said he, “that’s the hitch, for sure. Well, there’s 
my boat, that I made with my two hands. I keep her under 
the white rock. If the worst come to the worst, we might try 
that after dark. Hi ! ” he broke out, “ what’s that ? ” 

For just then, although the sun had still an hour or two to 
run, all the echoes of the island awoke and bellowed to the 
thunder of a canon. 

“ They have begun to fight ! ” I cried. “ Follow me.” 

And I began to run towards the anchorage, my terrors all 
forgotten ; while, close at my side, the marooned man in his 
goatskins trotted easily and lightly. 

“ Left, left,” says he ; “ keep to your left hand, mate Jim ! 
Under the trees with you ! Theer’s where I killed my first goat. 
They don’t come down here now ; they’re all mastheaded on 
them mountings for the fear of Benjamin Gunn. Ah ! and there’s 
the cetemery ” — cemetery, he must have meant. “ You see the 
mounds? I come here and prayed, nows and thens, when I 
thought maybe a Sunday would be about doo. It weren’t quite 
a chapel, but it seemed more solemn like ; and then, says you, 
Ben Gunn was short-handed — no chapling, nor so much as a 
Bible and a flag, you says.” 

So he kept talking as I ran, neither expecting nor receiving 
any answer. 

The cannon-shot was followed, after a considerable interval, 
by a volley of small arms. 

Another pause, and then, not a quarter of a mile in front of 
me, I beheld the Union Jack flutter in the air above a wood. 


H 


PART IV 


THE STOCKADE 
CHAPTER XVI 

NARRATIVE CONTINUED BY THE DOCTOR : HOW THE SHIP WAS j 
ABANDONED 

It was about half-past one — three bells in the sea phrase — \ 
that the two boats went ashore from the Hispaniola. The cap- •’ 
tain, the squire, and I were talking matters over in the cabin. 
Had there been a breath of wind we should have fallen on the 
six mutineers who were left aboard with us, slipped our cable, ] 
and away to sea. But the wind was wanting ; and, to complete j 
our helplessness, down came Hunter with the news that Jim | 
Hawkins had slipped into a boat and was gone ashore with the 
rest. 

It never occurred to us To doubt Jim Hawkins ; but we were j 
alarmed for his safety. With the men in the temper they were j 
in, it seemed an even chance if we should see the lad again. We 
ran on deck. The pitch was bubbling in the seams ; the nasty 
stench of the place turned me sick ; if ever a man smelt fever and 
dysentery, it was in that abominable anchorage. The six scoun- \ 
drels were sitting grumbling under a sail in the forecastle ; ashore i 
we could see the gigs made fast, and a man sitting in each, hard 
by where the river runs in. One of them was whistling “ Lilli- 
bullero . 0 ” 


98 


HOW THE SHIP WAS ABANDONED 


09 


Waiting was a strain ; and it was decided that Hunter and I 
should go ashore with the jolly-boat , 0 in quest of information. 

The gigs had leaned to their right ; but Hunter and I pulled 
straight in, in the direction of the stockade upon the chart. The 
two who were left guarding their boats seemed in a bustle at 
our appearance ; “ Lillibullero ” stopped off, and I could see the 
pair discussing what they ought to do. Had they gone and told 
Silver, all might have turned out differently ; but they had their 
orders, I suppose, and decided to sit quietly where they were 
and hark back again to “ Lillibullero.” 

There was a slight bend in the coast, and I steered so as to 
put it between us ; even before we landed we had thus lost sight 
of the gigs. I jumped out, and came as near running as I durst, 
with a big silk handkerchief under my hat for coolness’ sake, 
and a brace of pistols ready primed for safety. 

I had not gone a hundred yards when I came on the stockade. 

This was how it was : a spring of clear water rose almost at 
the top of a knoll. Well, on the knoll, and enclosing the spring, 
they had clapped a stout log-house, fit to hold two score people 
on a pinch, and loopholed for musketry on every side. All round 
this they had cleared a wide space, and then the thing was com- 
pleted by a paling six feet high, without door or opening, too 
strong to pull down without time and labour, and too open to 
shelter the besiegers. The people in the log-house had them in 
every way; they stood quiet in shelter and shot the others like 
partridges. All they wanted was a good watch and food ; for, 
short of a complete surprise, they might have held the place 
against a regiment. 

What particularly took my fancy was the spring. For, 
though we had a good enough place of it in the cabin of the 
Hispaniola , with plenty of arms and ammunition, and things 
to eat, and excellent wines, there had been one thing overlooked 
— we had no water. I was thinking this over, when there came 
ringing over the island the ciy of a man at the point of death. 


L.of C. • 


100 


TREASURE ISLAND 


I was not new to violent death — I have served his Royal High- 
ness the Duke of Cumberland, 0 and got a wound myself at Fon- 
tenoy — but 1 know my pulse went dot and carry one. “Jim 
Hawkins is goue ” was my first thought. 

It is something to have been an old soldier, but more still to 
have been a doctor. There is no time to dilly-dally in our work. 
And so now I made up my mind instantly, and with no time lost 
returned to the shore, and jumped on board the jolly-boat. 

By good fortune Hunter pulled a good oar. We made the 
water fly ; and the boat was soon alongside, and I aboard the 
schooner. 

I found them all shaken, as was natural. The squire was 
sitting down, as white as a sheet, thinking of the harm he had 
led us to, the good soul ! and one of the six forecastle hands 
was little better. 

“There’s a man,” says Captain Smollett, nodding towards him, 
“ new to this work. He came nigh-hand fainting, doctor, when 
he heard the cry. Another touch of the rudder and that man 
would join us.” 

I told my plan to the captain, and between us we settled on 
the details of its accomplishment. 

We put old Redruth in the gallery between the cabin and 
the forecastle, with three or four loaded muskets and a mattress 
for protection. Hunter brought the boat round under the stern- 
port, and Joyce and I set to work loading her with powder tins, 
muskets, bags of biscuits, kegs of pork, a cask of cognac, and 
my invaluable medicine chest. 

In the meantime, the squire and the captain stayed on deck, 
and the latter hailed the coxswain, who was the principal man 
aboard. 

“ Mr. Hands,” he said, “ here are two of us with a brace of 
pistols each. If any one of you six make a signal of any descrip- 
tion, that man’s dead.” 

They were a good deal taken aback ; and, after a little con- 


HOW THE SHIP WAS ABANDONED 


101 


sultation, one and all tumbled down the fore companion, think- 
ing, no doubt, to take us on the rear. But when they saw 
Redruth waiting for them in the sparred gallery, they went about 
ship at once, and a head popped out again on deck. 

“ Down, dog ! ” cries the captain. 

And the head popped back again ; and we heard no more, for 
the time, of these six very faint-hearted seamen. 

By this time, tumbling things in as they came, w T e had the 
jolly-boat loaded as much as we dared. Joyce and I got out 
through the stern-port, and we made for shore again, as fast as 
oars could take us. 

This second trip fairly aroused the watchers along the shore. 
“ Lillibullero ” was dropped again ; and just before we lost sight 
of them behind the little point, one of them whipped ashore and 
disappeared. I had half a mind to change my plan and destroy 
their boats, but I feared that Silver and the others might be close 
at hand, and all might very well be lost by trying for too much. 

We had soon touched land in the same place as before, and set 
to provision the block-house. All three made the first journey, 
heavily laden, and tossed our stores over the palisade. Then, 
leaving Joyce to guard them — one man, to be sure, but with half 
a dozen muskets — Hunter and I returned to the jolly-boat, and 
loaded ourselves once more. So we proceeded without pausing 
to take breath, till the whole cargo was bestowed, when the two 
servants took up their position in the block-house, and I, with 
all my power, sculled back to the Hispaniola. 

That we should have risked a second boat load seems more dar- 
ing than it really was. They had the advantage of numbers, of 
course, but we had the advantage of arms. Not one of the men 
ashore had a musket, and before they could get within range for 
pistol shooting, we flattered ourselves we should be able to give 
a good account of a half-dozen at least. 

The squire was waiting for me at the stern window, all his 
faintness gone from him. He caught the painter 0 and made it 


102 


TREASURE ISLAND 


fast, and we fell to loading the boat for our very lives. Pork, 
powder, and biscuit was the cargo, with only a musket and a 
cutlass apiece for squire and me and Redruth and the captain. 
The rest of the arms and powder we dropped overboard in two 
fathoms and a half of water, so that we could see the bright 
steel shining far below us in the sun, on the clean sandy bottom. 

By this time the tide was beginning to ebb, and the ship was 
swinging round to her anchor. Voices were heard faintly halloa- 
ing in the direction of the two gigs ; and though this reassured 
us for Joyce and Hunter, who were well to the eastward, it 
warned our party to be off. 

Redruth retreated from his place in the gallery, and dropped 
into the boat, which we then brought round to the ship’s 
counter , 0 to be handier for Captain Smollett. 

“Now men,” said he, “ do you hear me ? ” 

There was no answer from the forecastle. 

“ It’s to you, Abraham Cray — it’s to you I am speaking.” 

Still no reply. 

“ Gray,” resumed Mr. Smollett, a little louder, “I am leav- 
ing this ship, and I order you to follow your captain. I know 
you are a good man at bottom, and I daresay not one of the 
lot of you’s as bad as he makes out. I have my watch here in 
my hand ; I give you thirty seconds to join me in.” 

There was a pause. 

“Come, my fine fellow,” continued the captain, “don’t hang 
so long in stays . 0 I’m risking my life, and the lives of these 
good gentlemen, every second.” 

There was a sudden scuffle, a sound of blows, and out burst 
Abraham Gray with a knife-cut on the side of the cheek, and 
came running to the captain, like a dog to the whistle. 

“ I’m with you, sir,” said he. 

And the next moment he and the captain had dropped 
aboard of us, and we had shoved off and given way. 

We were clear out of the ship ; but not yet ashore in our 
stockade. 


CHAPTER XVII 


NARRATIVE CONTINUED BY THE DOCTOR : THE JOLLY-BOAT’S 
LAST TRIP 

This fifth trip was quite different from any of the others. 
In the first place, the little gallipot 0 of a boat that we were in 
was gravely overloaded. Five grown men, and three of them — 
Trelawney, Redruth, and the captain — over six feet high, was 
already more than she was meant to carry. Add to that the 
powder, pork, and bread-bags. The gunwale was lipping 
astern. Several times we shipped a little water, and my breeches 
and the tails of my coat were all soaking wet before we had 
gone a hundred yards. 

The captain made us trim the boat, and we got her to lie a 
little more evenly. All the same, we were afraid to breathe. 

In the second place, the ebb was now making — a strong 
rippling current running westward through the basin, and then 
south’ard and seaward down the straits by which we had entered 
in the morning. Even the ripples were a danger to our over- 
loaded craft ) but the worst of it was that we were swept out 
of our true course, and away from our proper landing-place be- 
hind the point. If we let the current have its way we should 
come ashore beside the gigs, where the pirates might appear 
at any moment. 

V I cannot keep her head for the stockade, sir, ” said I to the 
captain. I was steering, while he and Redruth, two fresh men, 
were at the oars. “ The tide keeps washing her down. Could 
you pull a little stronger? ” 


103 


104 


TREASURE ISLAND 


“ Not without swamping the boat,” said he. “ You must 
bear up, sir, if you please — bear up until you see you’re 
gaining.” 

I tried, and found by experiment that the tide kept sweeping 
us westward until I had laid her head due east, or just about 
right angles to the way we ought to go. 

“ We’ll never get ashore at this rate,” said I. 

“ If it’s the only course that we can lie, sir, we must even 
lie it,” returned the captain. “We must keep up-stream. You 
see, sir,” he went on, “if once we dropped to leeward of the 
landing-place, it’s hard to say where we should get ashore, be- 
sides the chance of being boarded by the gigs ; whereas, the way 
we go the current must slacken, and then we can dodge back 
along the shore.” 

“ The current’s less a’ready, sir,” said the man Gray, who 
was sitting in the fore-sheets ; “you can ease her off a bit.” 

“ Thank you, my man,” said I, quite as if nothing had hap- 
pened : for we had all quietly made up our minds to treat him 
like one of ourselves. 

Suddenly the captain spoke up again, and I thought his 
voice was a little changed. 

“ The gun ! ” said he. 

“ I have thought of that,” said I, for I made sure he was 
thinking of a bombardment of the fort. “ They could never 
get the gun ashore, and if they did, they could never haul it 
through the woods.” 

“ Look astern, doctor,” replied the captain. 

We had entirely forgotten thelong nine ; and there, to our 
horror, were the five rogues busy about her, getting off her 
jacket, as they called the stout tarpaulin cover under which 
she sailed. Not only that, but it flashed into my mind at the 
same moment that the round-shot and the powder for the gun 
had been left behind, and a stroke with an axe would put it all 
into the possession of the evil ones aboard. 


THE JOLLY-BOAT'’ S LAST TRIP 


105 


“Israel was Flint’s gunner,” said Gray, hoarsely. 

At any risk, we put the boat’s head direct for the landing- 
place. By this time we had got so far out of the run of the 
current that we kept steerage way even at our necessarily 
gentle rate of rowing, and I could keep her steady for the goal. 
But the worst of it was, that with the course I now held, we 
turned our broadside instead of our stern to the Hispaniola , 
and offered a target like a barn door. 

I could hear, as well as see, that brandy-faced rascal, Israel 
Hands, plumping down a round-shot on the deck. 

“ Who’s the best shot ? ” asked the captain. 

“Mr. Trelawney, out and away,” said I. 

“ Mr. Trelawney, will you please pick me off one of these men, 
sir ? Hands, if possible,” said the captain. 

Trelawney was as cool as steel. He looked to the priming 
of his gun. 

“ Now,” cried the captain, “easy with that gun, sir, or you’ll 
swamp the boat. All hands stand by to trim her when he aims.” 

The squire raised his gun, the rowing ceased, and we leaned 
over to the other side to keep the balance, and all was so nicely 
contrived that we did not ship a drop. 

They had the gun, by this time, slewed round upon the 
swivel, and Hands, who was at the muzzle with the rammer, 
was, in consequence, the most exposed. However, we had no 
luck ; for just as Trelawney fired, down he stooped, the ball 
whistled over him, and it was one of the other four who fell. 

The cry he gave was echoed, not only by his companions on 
board, but by a great number of tbices from the shore, and look- 
ing in that direction I saw the other pirates trooping out from 
among the trees and tumbling into their places in the boats. 

“Here come the gigs, sir,” said I. 

“Give way then,” cried the captain. “We mustn’t mind if 
we swamp her now. If we can’t get ashore, all’s up.” 

“ Only one of the gigs is being manned, sir,” I added, “ the 


106 


TREASURE ISLAND 


crew of the other most likely going round by shore to cut us 
off.” 

“They’ll have a hot run, sir,” returned the captain. “Jack 
ashore, you know. It’s not them I mind ; it’s the round-shot. 
Carpet bowls ! My lady’s maid couldn’t miss. Tell us, squire, 
when you see the match, and we’ll hold water.” 

In the meanwhile we had been making headway at a good 
pace for a boat so overloaded, and we had shipped but little 
water in the process. We were now close in ; thirty ,or forty 
strokes and we should beach her ; for the ebb had already dis- 
closed a narrow belt of sand below the clustering trees. The 
gig was no longer to be feared ; the little point had already 
concealed it from our eyes. The ebb-tide, which had so cruelly 
delayed us, was now making reparation, and delaying our 
assailants. The one source of danger was the gun. 

“ If I durst,” said the captain, “ I’d stop and pick olf 
another man.” ✓ 

But it was plain that they meant nothing should delay their 
shot. They had never so much as looked at their fallen 
comrade, though he was not dead, and I could see him trying to 
crawl away. 

“ Ready ! ” cried the squire. 

“ Hold ! ” cried the captain, quick as an echo. 

And he and Redruth backed with a great heave that sent her 
stern bodily under water. The report fell in at the same instant 
of time. This was the first that Jim heard, the sound of the 
squire’s shot not having reached him. Where the ball passed, 
not one of us precisely knew ; but I fancy it must have been 
over our heads, and that the wind of it may have contributed 
to our disaster. 

At any rate, the boat sank by the stern, quite gently, in three 
feet of water, leaving the captain and myself, facing each other, 
on our feet. The other three took complete headers, and came 
up again, drenched and bubbling. 


THE JOLLY-BOAT’S LAST TRIP 


107 


So far there was no great harm. No lives were lost, and we 
could wade ashore in safety. But there were all our stores at 
, the bottom, and, to make things worse, only two guns out of 
five remained in a state for service. Mine I had snatched from 
my knees and held over my head, by a sort of instinct. As for 
the captain, he had carried his over his shoulder by a bandoleer , 0 
and, like a wise man, lock uppermost. The other three had gone 
down with the boat. 

To add to our concern, we heard voices already drawing near 
us in the woods along shore ; and we had not only the danger 
of being cut off from the stockade in our half-crippled state, but 
the fear before us whether, if Hunter and Joyce were attacked 
by half a dozen, they would have the sense and conduct to stand 
firm. Hunter was steady, that we knew ; Joyce was a doubt- 
ful case — a pleasant, polite man for a valet, and to brush one’s 
clothes, but not entirely fitted for a man of war. 

With all this in our minds, we waded ashore as fast as we 
could, leaving behind us the poor jolly-boat, and a good half of 
all our powder and provisions. 


CHAPTER XVIII 


NARRATIVE CONTINUED BY THE DOCTOR : END OF THE FIRST 
day’s FIGHTING 

We made our best speed across the strip of wood that now 
divided us from the stockade ; and at every step we took the 
voices of the buccaneers rang nearer. Soon we could hear their 
footfalls as they ran, and the cracking of the branches as they 
breasted across a bit of thicket. 

I began to see we should have a brush for it in earnest, and 
looked to my priming. 

“ Captain,” said I, “ Trelawney is the dead shot. Give him 
your gun ; his own is useless.” 

They exchanged guns, and Trelawney, silent and cool as he 
had been since the beginning of the bustle, hung a moment on 
his heel to see that all was fit for service. At the same time, 
observing Gray to be unarmed, I handed him my cutlass. It 
did all our hearts good to see him spit in his hand, knit his 
brows, and make the blade sing through the air. It was plain 
from every line of his body that our new hand was worth his 
salt. 

Forty paces farther we came to the edge of the wood and saw 
the stockade in front of us. We struck the enclosure about 
middle of the south side, and, almost at the same time, seven 
mutineers — Job Anderson, the boatswain, at their head — 
appeared in full cry at the south-western corner. 

They paused, as if taken aback ; and before they recovered, 
108 


END OF THE FIRST DAY’S FIGHTING 


109 


not only the squire and I, but Hunter and Joyce from the 
block-house, had time to fire. The four shots came in rather a 
scattering volley ; but they did the business : one of the enemy 
actually fell, and the rest, without hesitation, turned and 
plunged into the trees. 

After reloading, we walked down the outside of the palisade 
to see to the fallen enemy. He was stone dead — shot through 
the heart. 

We began to rejoice over our good success, when just at that 
moment a pistol cracked in the bush, a ball whistled close past 
my ear, and poor Tom Redruth stumbled and fell his length on 
the ground. Both the squire and I returned the shot ; but as 
we had nothing to aim at, it is probable we only wasted pow- 
der. Then we reloaded, and turned our attention to poor Tom. 

The captain and Gray were already examining him ; and I 
saw with half an eye that all was over. 

I believe the readiness of our return volley had scattered the 
mutineers once more, for we were suffered without further mo- 
lestation to get the poor old gamekeeper hoisted over the stock- 
ade, and carried, groaning and bleeding, into the log-house. 

Poor old fellow, he had not uttered one word of surprise, 
complaint, fear, or even acquiescence, from the very beginning 
of our troubles till now, when we had laid him down in the log- 
house to die*. He had lain like a Trojan behind his mattress 
in the gallery ; he had followed every order silently, doggedly, 
and well ; he was the oldest of our party by a score of years ; 
and now, sullen, old, serviceable servant, it was he that was to 
die. 

The squire dropped down beside him on his knees and kissed 
his hand, crying like a child. 

“ Be I going, doctor 1 ” he asked. 

“Tom, my man,” said I, “you’re going home.” 

« I wish I had had a lick at them with the gun first,” he 
replied. 


110 


TREASURE ISLAND 


“Tom,” said the squire, “say you forgive me, won’t you?” 

“Would that be respectful like, from me to you, squire?” 
was the answer. “ Howsoever, so be it, amen ! ” 

After a little while of silence, he said he thought somebody 
might read a prayer. “ It’s the custom, sir,” he added, apolo- 
getically. And not long after, without au other word, he passed 
away. 

In the meantime the captain, whom I had observed to be 
wonderfully swollen about the chest and pockets, had turned 
out a great many various stores — the British colours, a Bible, 
a coil of stoutish rope, pen, ink, the log-book, and pounds of 
tobacco. He had found a longish fir-tree lying felled and 
trimmed in the enclosure, and, with the help of Hunter, he had 
set it up at the corner of the log-house where the trunks crossed 
and made an angle. Then, climbing on the roof, he had with 
his own hand bent and run up the colours. 

This seemed mightily to relieve him. He re-entered the log- 
house, and set about counting up the stores, as if nothing else 
existed. But he had an eye on Tom’s passage for all that; and 
as soon as all was over, came forward with another flag, and 
reverently spread it on the body. 

“ Don’t you take on, sir,” he said, shaking the squire’s hand. 

“ All’s well with him ; no fear for a hand that’s been shot 
down in his duty to captain and owner. It mayn’t be good 
divinity, but it’s a fact.” 

Then he pulled me aside. 

“Dr. Livesey,” he said, “in how many weeks do you and 
squire expect the consort ? ” 

I told him it was a question, not of weeks, but of months ; 
that if we were not back by the end of August, Blandly was to 
send to find us ; but neither sooner nor later. “You can cal- 
culate for yourself,” I said. 

“ Why, yes,” returned the captain, scratching his head, “ and 
making a large allowance, sir, for all the gifts of Providence, I 
should say we were pretty close hauled.” 


END OF THE FIRST DAY’S FIGHTING 


111 


“ How do you mean ? ” I asked. 

“ It’s a pity, sir, we lost that second load. That’s what I 
mean,” replied the captain. “ As for powder and shot, we’ll 
do. But the rations are short, very short — so short, Dr. Liv- 
esey, that we’re, perhaps, as well without that extra mouth.” 

And he pointed to the dead body under the flag. 

J ust then, with a roar and a whistle, a round-shot passed high 
above the roof of the log-house and plumped far beyond us in 
the wood. 

“ Oho ! ” said the captain. “ Blaze away ! You’ve little enough 
powder already, my lads.” 

At the second trial, the aim was better, and the ball descended 
inside the stockade, scattering a cloud of sand, but doing no 
further damage. 

“ Captain,” said the squire, “ the house is quite invisible from 
the ship. It must be the flag they are aiming at. Would it 
not be wiser to take it in 1 ” 

“ Strike my colours ! ” cried the captain. “ Ho, sir, not I ; ” 
and, as soon as he said the words, I think we all agreed with 
him. For it was not only a piece of stout, seamanly, good feel- 
ing ; it was good policy besides, and showed our enemies that 
we despised their cannonade. 

All through the evening they kept thundering away. Ball 
after ball flew over or fell short, or kicked up the sand in the 
enclosure ; but they had to fire so high that the shot fell dead and 
buried itself in the soft sand. We had no ricochet 0 to fear ; 
and though one popped in through the roof of the log-house and 
out again through the floor, we soojj got used to that sort of 
horse-play, and minded it no more than cricket. 

“ There is one thing good about all this,” observed the cap- 
tain : “ the wood in front of us is likely clear. The ebb has 
made a good while ; our stores should be uncovered. Volunteers 
to go and bring in pork.” 

Gray and Hunter were the first to come forward. Well armed, 


112 


TREASURE ISLAND 


they stole out of the stockade ; but it proved a useless mission. 
The mutineers were bolder than we fancied, or they put more 
trust in Israel’s gunnery. For four or five of them were busy 
carrying off our stores, and wading out with them to one of the 
gigs that lay close by, pulling an oar or so to hold her steady 
against the current. Silver was in the stern-sheets in command ; 
and every man of them was now provided with a musket from 
some secret magazine of their own. 

The captain sat down to his log, and here is the beginning of 
the entry : — 

“ Alexander Smollett, master ; David Livesey, ship’s doctor ; 
Abraham Gray, carpenter’s mate; John Trelawney, owner; John 
Hunter and Richard Joyce, owner’s servants, landsmen — being 
all that is left faithful of the ship’s company — with stores for 
ten days at short rations, came ashore this day, and flew British 
colours on the log-house in Treasure Island. Thomas Redruth, 
owner’s servant, landsman, shot by the mutineers ; James Haw- 
kins, cabin-boy — ” 

And at the same time I was wondering over poor Jim Haw- 
kins’s fate. 

A hail on the land side. 

“ Somebody hailing us,” said Hunter, who was on guard. 

“Doctor! squire! captain! Hullo, Hunter, is that you?” 
came the cries. 

And I ran to the door in time to see Jim Hawkins, safe and 
sound, come climbing over the stockade. 


CHAPTER XIX 


NARRATIVE RESUMED BY JIM HAWKINS : THE GARRISON IN 
THE STOCKADE 




As soon as Ben Gunn saw the colours he came to a halt, 
stopped me by the arm, and sat down. 

“ Now,” said he, “ there’s your friends, sure enough.” 

“ Far more likely it’s the mutineers,” I answered. 

“ That ! ” he cried. “ Why, in a place like this, where no- 
body puts in but gen’lemen of fortune, Silver would fly the Jolly 
Roger, you don’t make no doubt of that. No ; that’s your friends. 
There’s been blows, too, and I reckon your friends has had the 
best of it ; and here they are ashore in the old stockade, as was 
made years and years ago by Flint. Ah, he was the man to 
have a headpiece, was Flint ! Barring rum, his match were never 
seen. He were afraid of none, not he ; on’y Silver — Silver was 
that genteel.” 

“ Well,” said I, “ that may be so, and so be it ; all the more 
reason that I should hurry on and join my friends.” 

“Nay, mate,” returned Ben, “not you. You’re a good boy, 
or I’m mistook ; but you’re on’y a boy, all told. Now, Ben 
Gunn is fly. Rum wouldn’t bring me there, where you’re going 
— not rum wouldn’t, till I see your born gen’leman, and gets it 
on his word of honour. And you won’t forget my words : ‘ A 
precious sight (that’s what you’ll say), a precious sight more con- 
fidence’ — and then nips him.” 

And he pinched me the third time with the same air of 


cleverness. 


i 


113 


114 


TREASURE ISLAND 


“ And when Ben Gunn is wanted, you know where to find 
him, Jim. Just wheer you found him to-day. And him that 
comes is to have a white thing in his hand : and he’s to come 
alone. Oh ! and you’ll say this : ‘ Ben Gunn,’ says you, ‘ has 
reasons of his own.’” 

“ Well,” said I, “ I believe I understand. You have some- 
thing to propose, and you wish to see the squire or the doctor ; 
and you’re to be found where I found you. Is that all ? ” 

“ And when? says you,” he added. “Why, from about noon 
observation to about six bells . 0 ” 

“ Good,” said I, “and now may I go?” 

“ You won’t forget ? ” he inquired, anxiously. “ Precious 
sight, and reasons of his own, says you. Reasons of his own ; 
that’s the mainstay; as between man and man. Well, then” — 
still holding me — “I reckon you can go, Jim. And, Jim, if 
you was to see Silver, you wouldn’t go for to sell Ben Gunn ? 
wild horses wouldn’t draw it from you ? No, says you. And 
if them pirates camp ashore, Jim, what would you say but 
there’d be widders in the morning ? ” 

Here he was interrupted by a loud report, and a cannon ball 
came tearing through the trees and pitched in the sand, not 
a hundred yards from where we two were talking. The next 
moment each of us had taken to his heels in a different 
direction. 

For a good hour to come frequent reports shook the island, 
and balls kept crashing through the woods. I moved from 
hiding-place to hiding-place, always pursued, or so it seemed to 
me, by these terrifying missiles. But towards the end of the 
bombardment, though still I durst not venture in the direction 
of the stockade, where the balls fell oftenest, I had begun, in 
a manner, to pluck up my heart again ; and after a long detour 
to the east, crept down among the shore-side trees. 

The sun had just set, the sea breeze was rustling and tum- 
bling in the woods, and ruffling the grey surface of the anchor- 


THE GARRISON IN THE STOCKADE 


115 


age ; the tide, too, was far out, and great tracts of sand lay 
uncovered ; the air, after the heat of the day, chilled me through 
my jacket. 

The Hispaniola still lay where she had anchored ; but, sure 
enough, there was the Jolly Roger — the black flag of piracy — 
I flying from her peak. Even as I looked, there came another 
I red flash and another report, that sent the echoes clattering, 

I and one more round-shot whistled through the air. It was the 
last of the cannonade. 

I lay for some time, watching the bustle which succeeded the 
; attack. Men were demolishing something with axes on the 
j beach near the stockade ; the poor jolly-boat, I afterwards 
| discovered. Away, near the mouth of the river, a great fire 
| was glowing among the trees, and between that point and the 
: ship one of the gigs kept coming and going, the men, whom 
I I had seen so gloomy, shouting at the oars like children. But 
there was a sound in their voices which suggested rum. 

At length I thought I might return towards the stockade. 
I was pretty far down on the low, sandy spit that incloses the 
anchorage to the east, and is joined at half-water to Skeleton 
Island ; and now, as I rose to my feet, I saw, some distance 
further down the spit, and rising from among low bushes, an 
isolated rock, pretty high, and peculiarly white in colour. It 
occurred to me that this might be the white rock of which Ben 
Gunn had spoken, and that some day or other a boat might be 
wanted, and I should know where to look for one. 

Then I skirted among the woods until I had regained the rear, 
or shoreward side, of the stockade, and was soon warmly wel- 
comed by the faithful party. 

I had soon told my story, and began to look about me. The 
log-house was made of unsquared trunks of pine — roof, walls, 
and floor. The latter stood in several places as much as a foot 
or a foot and a half above the surface of the sand. There was 
a porch at the door, and under this porch the little spring welled 


116 


TREASURE ISLAND 


up into an artificial basin of a rather odd kind — no other than 
a great ship’s kettle of iron, with the bottom knocked out, and 
sunk “ to her bearings,” as the captain said, among the sand. 

Little had been left beside the framework of the house ; but 
in one corner there was a stone slab laid down by way of hearth, 
and an old rusty iron basket to contain the fire. 

The slopes of the knoll and all the inside of the stockade had 
been cleared of timber to build the house, and we could see by j 
the stumps what a fine and lofty grove had been destroyed, j 
Most of the soil had been washed away or buried in drift after J 
the removal of the trees ; only where the streamlet ran down 1 
from the kettle a thick bed of moss and some ferns and little ] 
creeping bushes were still green among the sand. Very close j 
around the stockade — too close for defence, they said — the j 
wood still flourished high and dense, all of fir on the land side, J 
but towards the sea with a large admixture of live-oaks. 

The cold evening breeze of which I have spoken, whistled 1 
through every chink of the rude building, and sprinkled the ] 
floor with a continual rain of fine sand. There was sand in our j 
eyes, sand in our teeth, sand in our suppers, sand dancing in j 
the spring at the bottom of the kettle, for all the world like 1 
porridge beginning to boil. Our chimney was a square hole I 
in the roof ; it was but a little part of the smoke that found ] 
its way out, and the rest eddied about the house, and kept us j 
coughing and piping the eye. 

Add to this that Gray, the new man, had his face tied up in a 1 
bandage for a cut he had got in breaking away from the muti- j 
neers ; and that poor old Tom Redruth, still unburied, lay along J 
the wall, stiff and stark, under the Union Jack. 

If we had been allowed to sit idle, we should all have fallen j 
in the blues, but Captain Smollett was never the man for that. 1 
All hands were called up before him, and he divided us into 
watches. The doctor, and Gray, and I, for one ; the squire, 
Hunter, and Joyce, upon the other. Tired as we all were, two 


THE GARRISON IN THE STOCKADE 


117 


were sent out for firewood ; two more were set to dig a grave 
for Redruth ; the doctor was named cook ; I was put sentry at 
the door ; and the captain himself went from one to another, 
keeping up our spirits and lending a hand wherever it was 
wanted. 

From time to time the doctor came to the door for a little air 
and to rest his eyes, which were almost smoked out of his head ; 
and whenever he did so, he had a word for me. 

“ That man Smollett,” he said once, “is a better man than I 
am. And when I say that it means a deal, Jim.” 

Another time he came and was silent for a while. Then he 
put his head on one side, and looked at me. 

“ Is this Ben Gunn a man ? ” he asked. 

“I do not know, sir,” said I. “ I am not very sure whether 
he’s sane.” 

“ If there’s any doubt about the matter, he is,” returned the 
doctor. “ A man who has been three years biting his nails on 
a desert island, Jim, can’t expect to appear as sane as you or me. 
It doesn’t lie in human nature. Was it cheese you said he had 
a fancy for 1 ” 

“Yes, sir, cheese,” I answered. 

“Well, Jim,” says he, “just see the good that comes of being 
dainty in your food. You’ve seen my snuff-box, haven’t you ? 
And you never saw me take snuff ; the reason being that in my 
snuff-box I carry a piece of Parmesan cheese 0 — a cheese made 
in Italy, very nutritious. Well, that’s for Ben Gunn ! ” 

Before supper was eaten we buried old Tom in the sand, and 
stood round him for a while bare-headed in the breeze. A good 
deal of firewood had been got in, but not enough for the captain’s 
fancy ; and he shook his head over it, and told us we “ must 
get back to this to-morrow rather livelier.” Then, when we had 
eaten our pork, and each had a stiff glass of brandy grog, the 
three chiefs got together in a corner to discuss our prospects. 

It appears they were at their wits’ end what to do, the stores 


118 


TREASURE ISLAND 


being so low that we must have been starved into surrender \ 
long before help came. But our best hope, it was decided, was • 
to kill off the buccaneers until they hauled down their flag or j 
ran away with the Hispaniola. From nineteen they were already < 
reduced to fifteen, two others were wounded, and one, at least — j 
the man shot beside the gun — severely wounded, if he were not j 
dead. Every time we had a crack at them, we were to take it, sav- j 
ing our own lives, with the extremest care. And, besides that, we j 
had two able allies — rum and the climate. 

As for the first, though we were about half a mile away, we j 
could hear them roaring and singing late into the night ; and as I 
for the second, the doctor staked his wig that, camped where j 
they were in the marsh, and unprovided with remedies, the half I 
of them would be on their backs before a week. 

“ So,” he added, “ if we are not all shot down first they’ll 
be glad to be packing in the schooner. It’s always a ship, and ] 
they can get to buccaneering again, I suppose.” 

“ First ship that ever I lost,” said Captain Smollett. 

I was dead tired, as you may fancy ; and when I got to sleep, 
which was not till after a great deal of tossing, I slept like a log 1 
of wood. 

The rest had long been up, and had already breakfasted and j 
increased the pile of firewood by about half as much again, 
when I was awakened by a bustle and the sound of voices. 

“ Flag of truce ! ” I heard someone say ; and then, im- 
mediately after, with a cry of surprise, “ Silver himself ! ” 

And, at that, up I jumped, and, rubbing my eyes, ran to a 
loophole in the wall. 


CHAPTER XX 


silver’s embassy 

Sure enough, there were two men just outside the stockade, 
one of them waving a white cloth ; the other, no less a person 
than Silver himself, standing placidly by. 

It was still quite early, and the coldest morning that I think 
I ever was abroad in ; a chill that pierced into the marrow. 
The sky was bright and cloudless overhead, and the tops of the 
trees shone rosily in the sun. But where Silver stood with his 
lieutenant all was still in shadow, and they waded knee deep 
in a low, white vapour, that had crawled during the night out 
of the morass. The chill and the vapour taken together told 
a poor tale of the island. It was plainly a damp, feverish, un- 
healthy spot. 

“ Keep indoors, men,” said the captain. “ Ten to one this is 
a trick.” 

Then he hailed the buccaneer. 

“ Who goes? Stand, or we fire.” 

“ Flag of truce,” cried Silver. 

The captain was in the porch, keeping himself carefully out of 
the way of a treacherous shot should any be intended. He turned 
and spoke to us : — 

“ Doctor’s watch on the look-out. Dr. Livesey take the north 
side, if you please ; Jim, the east ; Gray, west. The watch 
below, all hands to load muskets. Lively, men, and careful.” 

And then he turned again to the mutineers. 

“ And what do you want with your flag of truce ? ” he cried. 

This time it was the other man who replied. 

119 


120 


TREASURE ISLAND 


“ Cap’n Silver, sir, to come on board and make terms,” he 
shouted. 

“ Cap’n Silver ! Don’t know him. Who’s he ? ” cried the 
captain. And we could hear him adding to himself : “ Cap’n, 
is it h My heart, and here’s promotion ! ” 

Long John answered for himself. 

“ Me, sir. These poor lads have chosen me cap’n, after your 
desertion, sir” — laying a particular emphasis upon the word 
“ desertion.” “ We’re willing to submit, if we can come to 
terms, and no bones about it. All I ask is your word, Cap’n 
Smollett, to let me safe and sound out of this here stockade, 
and one minute to get out o’ shot before a gun is fired.” 

“ My man,” said Captain Smollett, “ I have not the slightest 
desire to talk to you. If you wish to talk to me, you can come, 
that’s all. If there’s any treachery, it’ll be on your side, and 
the Lord help you.” 

“That’s enopgh, cap’n,” shouted Long John, cheerily. “A 
word from you’s enough. I know a gentleman, and you may 
lay to that.” 

We could see the man who carried the flag of truce attempting 
to hold Silver back. Nor was that wonderful, seeing how cava- 
lier 0 had been the captain’s answer. But Silver laughed at him 
aloud, and slapped him on the back, as if the idea of alarm had 
been absurds Then he advanced to the stockade, threw over 
his crutch, got a leg up, and with great vigour and skill succeeded 
in surmounting the fence and dropping safely to the other side. 

I will confess that I was far too much taken up with what 
was going on to be of the slightest use as sentry ; indeed, I had 
already deserted my eastern loophole, and crept up behind the 
captain, who had now seated himself on the threshold, with his 
elbows on his knees, his head in his hands, and his eyes fixed on 
the water, as it bubbled out of the old iron kettle in the sand. 
He was whistling to himself, “ Come, Lasses and Lads.” 

Silver had terrible hard work getting up the knoll. What 


SILVER’S EMBASSY 


121 


with the steepness of the incline, the thick tree stumps, and the 
soft sand, he and his crutch were as helpless as a ship in stays. 
But he stuck to it like a man in silence, and at last arrived 
before the captain, whom he saluted in the handsomest style. 
He was tricked out in his best ; an immense blue coat, thick 
with brass buttons, hung as low as to his knees, and a fine laced 
hat was set on the back of his head. 

“Here you are, my man,” said the captain, raising his head. 
“You had better sit down.” 

“You ain’t a-going to let me inside, cap’n ? ” complained Long 
John. “It’s a main 0 cold morning, to be sure, sir, to sit out- 
side upon the sand.” 

“ Why, Silver,” said the captain, “ if you had pleased to be 
an honest man, you might have been sitting in your galley. 
It’s your own doing. You’re either my ship’s cook — and then 
you were treated handsome — or Cap’n Silver, a common muti- 
neer and pirate, and then you can go hang ! ” 

“ Well, well, cap’n,” returned the sea cook, sitting down as he 
was bidden on the sand, “ you’ll have to give me a hand up 
again, that’s all. A sweet pretty place you have of it here. 
Ah, there’s Jim ! The top of the morning to you, Jim. — Doc- 
tor, here’s my service. Why, there you all are together like a 
happy family, in a manner of speaking.” 

“ If you have anything to say, my man, better say it,” said 
the captain. 

“ Right you were, Cap’n Smollett,” replied Silver. “ Dooty 
is dooty, to be sure. Well, now, you look here, that was a 
good lay of yours last night. I don’t deny it was a good lay. 
Some of you pretty handy with a handspike-end. And I’ll 
not deny neither but what some of my people was shook 
— maybe all was shook; maybe I was shook myself ; maybe 
that’s why I’m here for terms. But you mark me, cap’n, it won’t 
do twice, by thunder ! We’ll have to do sentry-go, and ease off 
a point or so on the rum. Maybe you think we were all a sheet 


122 


TREASURE ISLAND 


in the wind’s eye. But I’ll tell you I was sober ; I was on’y 
dog tired ; and if I’d awoke a second sooner I’d ’a’ caught you 
at the act, I would. He wasn’t dead when I got round to him, 
not he.” 

“ Well? ” says Captain Smollett, as cool as can be. 

All that Silver said was a riddle to him, but you would never 
have guessed it from his tone. As for me, I began to have an 
inkling. Ben Gunn’s last words came back to my mind. I 
began to suppose that he had paid the buccaneers a visit w T hile 
they all lay drunk together round their fire, and I reckoned up 
with glee that we had only fourteen enemies to deal with. 

“ Well, here it is,” said Silver. “ We want that treasure, 
and we’ll have it — that’s our point ! You would just as soon 
save your lives, I reckon ; and that’s yours. You have a chart, 
haven’t you 1 ” 

“ That’s as may be,” replied the captain. 

“ Oh, well, you have, I know that,” returned Long John. 
“ You needn’t be so husky with a man ; there ain’t a particle 
of service in that, and you may lay to it. What I mean is, we 
want your chart. Now, I never meant you no harm, myself.” 

“ That won’t do with me, my man,” interrupted the captain. 
“We know exactly what you meant to do, and we don’t care; 
for now, you see, you can’t do it.” 

And the captain looked at him calmly, and proceeded to fill 
a pipe. 

“ If Abe Gray — ” Silver broke out. 

“Avast there ! ” cried Mr. Smollett. “Gray told me nothing, 
and I asked him nothing ; and what’s more I would see you 
and him and this whole island blown clean out of the water 
into blazes first. So there’s my mind for you, my man, on that.” 

This little whiff of temper seemed to cool Silver down. He 
had been growing nettled before, but now he pulled himself 
together. 

“ Like enough,” said he. “I would set no limits to what 


SILVER'S EMBASSY 


123 


gentlemen might consider shipshape, or might not, as the case 
were. And, seem’ as how you are about to take a pipe, cap’n, 
I’ll make so free as to do likewise.” 

And he filled a pipe and lighted it ; and the two men sat 
silently smoking for quite a while, now looking each other in 
the face, now stopping their tobacco, now leaning forward to 
spit. It was as good as the play to see them. 

“ Now,” resumed Silver, “ here it is. You give us the chart 
to get the treasure by, and drop shooting poor seamen, and 
stoving of their heads in while asleep. You do that, and we’ll 
offer you a choice. Either you come aboard along of us, once 
the treasure shipped, and then I’ll give you my affy-davy, upon 
my word of honour, to clap you somewhere safe ashore. Or, if 
that ain’t to your fancy, some of my hands being rough, and 
having old scores, on account of hazing, then you can stay here, 
you can. We’ll divide stores with you, man for man ; and I’ll 
give my affy-davy, as before, to speak the first ship I sight, and 
send ’em here to pick you up. Now you’ll own that’s talking. 
Handsomer you couldn’t look to get, not you. And I hope ” — 
raising his voice — “ that all hands in this here block-house will 
overhaul my words, for what is spoke to one is spoke to all.” 

Captain Smollett rose from his seat, and knocked out the 
ashes of his pipe in the palm of his left hand. 

“ Is that all? ” he asked. 

“Every last word, by thunder!” answered John. “Refuse 
that, and you’ve seen the last of me but musket-balls.” 

“ Very good,” said the captain. “ Now you’ll hear me. If 
you’ll come up one by one, unarmed, I’ll engage to clap you all 
in irons and take you home to a fair trial in England. If you 
won’t, my name is Alexander Smollett, I’ve flown my sovereign’s 
colours, and I’ll see you all to Davy Jones . 0 You can’t find the 
treasure. You can’t sail the ship — there’s not a man among 
you fit to sail the ship. You can’t fight us — Gray, there, got 
away from five of you. Your ship’s in irons, Master Silver j 


124 


TREASURE ISLAND 


you’re on a lee shore, and so you’ll find. I stand here and tell 
you so ; and they’re the last good words you’ll get from me ; for, 
in the name of heaven, I’ll put a bullet in your back when next 
I meet you. Tramp, my lad. Bundle out of this, please, hand 
over hand, and double quick.” 

Silver’s face was a picture ; his eyes started in his head with 
wrath. He shook the fire out of his pipe. 

“ Give me a hand up ! ” he cried. 

“ Not I,” returned the captain. 

“ Who’ll give me a hand up 1 ” he roared. 

Not a man among us moved. Growling the foulest impreca- 
tions, he crawled along the sand till he got hold of the porch 
and could hoist himself again upon his crutch. Then he spat 
into the spring. 

“ There ! ” he cried, “ that’s what I think of ye. Before an 
hour’s out, I’ll stove in your old block- house like a rum punch- 
eon. 0 Laugh, by thunder, laugh ! Before an hour’s out, ye’ll 
laugh upon the other side. Them that die’ll be the lucky ones.” 

And with a dreadful oath he stumbled off, ploughed down 
the sand, was helped across the stockade, after four or five fail- 
ures, by the man with the flag of truce, and disappeared in an 
instant afterwards among the trees. 


CHAPTER XXI 


THE ATTACK 

As soon as Silver disappeared, the captain, who had been 
closely watching him, turned towards the interior of the house, 
and found not a man of us at his post but Gray. It was the 
first time we had ever seen him angry. 

“ Quarters ! ” he roared. And then, as we all slunk back to 
our places, “Gray,” he said, “I’ll put your name in the log; 
you’ve stood by your duty like a seaman. Mr. Trelawney, I’m 
surprised at you, sir. Doctor, I thought you had worn the 
king’s coat ! If that was how you served at Fontenoy, sir, 
you’d have been better in your berth.” 

The doctor’s watch were all back at their loopholes, the rest 
were busy loading the spare muskets, and every one with a red 
face, you may be certain, and a flea in his ear, as the saying is. 

The captain looked on for a while in silence. Then he spoke. 

“My lads,” said he, “I’ve given Silver a broadside. I 
pitched it in red-hot on purpose ; and before the hour’s out, as 
he said, we shall be boarded. We’re outnumbered, I needn’t 
tell you that, but w r e fight in shelter-; and, a minute ago, I 
should have said we fought with discipline. I’ve no manner of 
doubt that we can drub them, if you choose.” 

Then he went the rounds, and saw, as he said, that all was 
clear. 

On the two short sides of the house, east and west, there w-ere 
only two loopholes ; on the south side where the porch was, two 
again ; and on the north side, five. There was a round score 

125 


126 


TREASURE ISLAND 


of muskets for the seven of us ; the firewood had been built into 
four piles — tables, you might say — one about the middle of 
each side, and on each of these tables some ammunition and 
four loaded muskets were laid ready to the hand of the defend- 
ers. In the middle, the cutlasses lay ranged. 

“ Toss out the fire,” said the captain ; “ the chill is past, and 
we mustn’t have smoke in our eyes.” 

The iron fire basket was carried bodily out by Mr. Trelawney,' : 
and the embers smothered among sand. 

“ Hawkins hasn’t had his breakfast. Hawkins, help your- ' 
self, and back to your post to eat it,” continued Captain Smol- ' 
lett. “ Lively, now, my lad ; you’ll want it before you’ve done, j 
Hunter, serve out a round of brandy to all hands.” 

And while this was going on, the captain completed, in his j 
own mind, the plan of the defence. 

“ Doctor, you will take the door,” he resumed. “ See, and 
don’t expose yourself ; keep within, and fire through the porch. 
Hunter, take the east side, there. Joyce, you stand by the j 
west, my man. Mr. Trelawney, you are the best shot — you \ 
and Cray will take this long north side, with the five loopholes ; I 
it’s there the danger is. If they can get up to it, and fire in i 
upon us through our own ports, things would begin to look dirty. :• 
Hawkins, neither you nor I are much account at the shooting ; j 
we’ll stand by to load and bear a hand.” 

As the captain had said, the chill was past. As soon as the 1 
sun had climbed above our girdle of trees, it fell with all its j 
force upon the clearing, and drank up the vapours at a draught. J 
Soon the sand was baking, and the resin melting in the logs of \ 
the block-house.' Jackets and coats were flung aside; shirts ] 
thrown open at the neck, and rolled up to the shoulders ; and ‘ 
we stood there, each at his post, in a fever of heat and anxiety. I 

An hour passed away. 

“ Hang them ! ” said the captain. “ This is as dull as the 
doldrums. 0 Cray, whistle for a wind.” 


THE ATTACK 


127 


And just at that moment came the first news of the attack. 

“ If you please, sir,” said Joyce, “ if I see anyone am I to 
fire?” 

“ I told you so ! ” cried the captain. 

“ Thank you, sir,” returned Joyce, with the same quiet 
civility. 

Nothing followed for a time ; hut the remark had set us all 
on the alert, straining ears and eyes — the musketeers with their 
pieces balanced in their hands, the captain out in the middle of 
the block-house, with his mouth very tight and a frown on his 
face. 

So some seconds passed, till suddenly Joyce whipped up his 
musket and fired. The report had scarcely died away ere it 
was repeated and repeated from without in a scattering volley, 
shot behind shot, like a string of geese, from every side of the 
enclosure. Several bullets struck the log-house, but not one 
entered ; and, as the smoke cleared away and vanished, the stock- 
ade and the woods around it looked as quiet and empty as be- 
fore. Not a bough waved, not the gleam of a musket-barrel 
betrayed the presence of our foes. 

“Did you hit your man?” asked the captain. 

“No, sir,” replied Joyce. “I believe not, sir.” 

“Next best thing to tell the truth,” muttered Captain Smol- 
lett. “ Load his gun, Hawkins. How many should you say 
there were on your side, doctor 1 ” 

“ I know precisely,” said Dr. Livesey. “ Three shots were 
fired on this side. I saw the three flashes — two close together 
— one farther to the west.” 

“ Three ! ” repeated the captain. “ And how many on yours, 
Mr. Trelawney ? ” 

But this was not so easily answered. There had come many 
from the north — seven, by the squire’s computation ; eight or 
nine, according to Gray. From the east and west only a single 
shot had been fired. It was plain, therefore, that the attack 


128 


TREASURE ISLAND 


would be developed from the north, and that on the other three < 
sides we were only to be annoyed by a show of hostilities. But 
Captain Smollett made no change in his arrangements. If the 
mutineers succeeded in crossing the stockade, he argued, they 
would take possession of any unprotected loophole, and shoot us t 
down like rats in our own stronghold. 

Nor had we much time left to us for thought. Suddenly, 
with a loud huzza, a little cloud of pirates leaped from the'' 
woods on the north side, and ran straight on the stockade. At 
the same moment, the fire was once more opened from the woods, 1 
and a rifle ball sang through the doorway, and knocked the doc- ] 
tor’s musket into bits. 

The boarders swarmed over the fence like monkeys. Squire 
and Gray fired again and yet again ; three men fell, one forwards I 
into the enclosure, two back on the outside. But of these, one \ 
was evidently more frightened than hurt, for he was on his feet ] 
again in a crack, and instantly disappeared among the trees. 

Two had bit the dust, one had fled, four had made good their 
footing inside our defences ; while from the shelter of the woods 1 
seven or eight men, each evidently supplied with several mus- ■ 
kets, kept up a hot though useless fire on the log-house. 

The four who had boarded made straight before them for the 
building, shouting as they ran, and the men among the trees j 
shouted back to encourage them. Several shots were fired ; but 
such was the hurry of the marksmen, that not one appears to 
have taken effect. In a moment, the four pirates had swarmed 1 
up the mound and were upon us. 

The head of Job Anderson, the boatswain, appeared at the 
middle loophole. 

“ At ’em, all hands — all hands ! ” he roared, in a voice of 
thunder. 

At the same moment, another pirate grasped Hunter’s 
musket by the muzzle, wrenched it from his hands, plucked it 
through the loophole, and, with one stunning blow, laid the 


THE ATTACK 


129 


poor fellow senseless on the floor. Meanwhile a third, running 
unharmed all round the house, appeared suddenly in the door- 
i way, and fell with his cutlass on the doctor. 

Our position was utterly reversed. A moment since we 
| were firing, under cover, at an exposed enemy ; now it was we 
who lay uncovered, and could not return a blow. 

The log-house was full of smoke, to which we owed our com- 
parative safety. Cries and confusion, the flashes and reports 
of pistol shots, and one loud groan, rang in my ears. 

“ Out, lads, out, and fight ’em in the open ! Cutlasses ! ” 
cried the captain. 

I snatched a cutlass from the pile, and someone, at the same 
time snatching another, gave me a cut across the knuckles 
which I hardly felt. I dashed out of the door into the clear 
, sunlight. Someone was close behind, I knew not whom, 
i Right in front, the doctor was pursuing his assailant down the 
hill, and, just as my eyes fell upon him, beat down his guard, 
and sent him sprawling on his back, with a great slash across 
, the face. 

“ Round the house, lads !' round the house ! ” cried the cap- 
tain ; and even in the hurly-burly I perceived a change in his 
voice. 

Mechanically I obeyed, turned eastwards, and with my cut- 
lass raised, ran round the corner of the house. Next moment 
I was face to face with Anderson. He roared aloud, and his 
hanger went up above his head, flashing in the sunlight. I had 
not time to be afraid, but, as the blow still hung impending, 
leaped in a trice upon one side, and missing my foot in the soft 
sand, rolled headlong down the slope. 

When I had first sallied from the door, the other mutineers 
had been already swarming up the palisade to make an end of 
us. One man, in a red night-cap, with his cutlass in his 
mouth, had even got upon the top and thrown a leg across. 
Well, so short had been the interval, that when I found my 


130 


TREASURE ISLAND 


feet again all was in the same posture, the fellow with the red 
night-cap still half way over, another still just showing his 
head above the top of the stockade. And yet, in this breath 
of time, the fight was over, and the victory was ours. 

Gray, following close behind me, had cut down the big boat- 
swain ere he had time to recover from his lost blow. Another 
had been shot at a loophole in the very act of firing into the 
house, and now lay in agony, the pistol still smoking in his 
hand. A third, as I had seen, the doctor had disposed of at a 
blow. Of the four who had scaled the palisade, one only re- 
mained unaccounted for, and he, having left his cutlass on the 
field, was now clambering out again with the fear of death 
upon him. 

“ Fire — fire from the house ! ” cried the doctor. 

“ And you, lads, back into cover.” 

But his words were unheeded, no shot was fired, and the 
last boarder made good his escape, and disappeared with 
the rest into the wood. In three seconds nothing remained of 
the attacking party but the five who had fallen, four on the 
inside, and one on the outside, of the palisade. 

The doctor and Gray and I ran full speed for shelter. The 
survivors would soon be back where they had left their mus- 
kets, and at any moment the fire might recommence. 

The house was by this time somewhat cleared of smoke, and 
we saw at a glance the price we had paid for victory. Hunter 
lay beside his loophole, stunned; Joyce by his, shot through 
the head, never to move again ; while right in the centre, the 
squire was supporting the captain, one as pale as the other. 

“ The captain’s wounded,” said Mr. Trelawney. 

“ Have they run ? ” asked Mr. Smollett. 

“ All that could, you may be bound,” returned the doctor ; 
“ but there’s five of them will never run again.” 

“ Five ! ” cried the captain. “ Come, that’s better. Five 
against three leaves us four to nine. That’s better odds than 


THE ATTACK 


131 


we had at starting. We were seven to nineteen then, or 
thought we were, and that’s as bad to bear .” 1 

1 The mutineers were soon only eight in number, for the man shot 
by Mr. Trelawney on board the schooner died that same evening of 
his wound. But this was, of course, not known till after by the faith- 
ful party. 




PART V 

MY SEA ADVENTURE 








CHAPTER XXII 


HOW MY SEA ADVENTURE BEGAN 




There was no return of the mutineers — not so much as 
another shot out of the woods. They had “ got their rations 
for that day,” as the captain put it, and we had the place to 
ourselves and a quiet time to overhaul the wounded and get 
dinner. Squire and I cooked outside in spite of the danger, 
and even outside we could hardly tell what we were at, for 
horror of the loud groans that reached us from the doctor’s 
patients. 

Out of the eight men who had fallen in the action, only 
three still breathed — that one of the pirates who had been 
shot at the loophole, Hunter, and Captain Smollett ; and of 
these the first two were as good as dead; the mutineer, indeed, 
died under the doctor’s knife, and Hunter, do what we could, 
never recovered consciousness in this world. He lingered all 
day, breathing loudly like the old buccaneer at home in his 
apoplectic fit,; but the bones of his chest had been crushed by 
the blow and his skull fractured in falling, and some time in 
the following night, without sign or sound, he went to his 
Maker. 

As for the captain, his wounds were grievous indeed, but not 
dangerous. No organ was fatally injured. Anderson’s ball — 

132 


HOW MY SEA ADVENTURE BEGAN 


133 


for it was J ob that shot him first — had broken his shoulder- 
blade and touched the lung, not badly; the second had only 
torn and displaced some muscles in the calf. He was sure to 
recover, the doctor said, but, in the meantime and for weeks to 
come, he must not walk nor move his arm, nor so much as 
speak when he could help it. 

My own accidental cut across the knuckles was a flea-bite. 
Dr. Livesey patched it up with plaster, and pulled my ears for 
me into the bargain. 

After dinner the squire and the doctor sat by the captain’s 
side a while in consultation ; and when they had talked to their 
hearts’ content, it being then a little past noon, the doctor took 
up his hat and pistols, girt on a cutlass, put the chart in his 
pocket, and with a musket over his shoulder, crossed the pali- 
sade on the north side, and set off briskly through the trees. 

Gray and I were sitting together at the far end of the block- 
house, to be out of earshot of our officers consulting ; and Gray 
took his pipe out of his mouth and fairly forgot to put it back 
again, so thunder-struck he was at this occurrence. 

“ Why, in the name of Davy Jones,” said he, “ is Dr. Liv- 
esey mad ? ” 

“ Why, no,” says I. “ He’s about the last of this crew for 
that, I take it.” 

“ Well, shipmate,” said Gray, “ mad he may not be ; but if 
he’s not, you mark my words, I am.” 

“ I take it,” replied I, “ the doctor has his idea; and if I am 
right, he’s going now to see Ben Gunn.” 

I was right, as appeared later ; but, in the meantime, the 
house being stifling hot, and the little patch of sand inside the 
palisade ablaze with midday sun, I began to get another thought 
into my head, which was not by any means so right. What I 
began to do was to envy the doctor, walking in the cool shadow 
of the woods, with the birds about him, and the pleasant smell 
of the pines, while I sat grilling, with my clothes stuck to the 


134 


TREASURE ISLAND 


hot resin, and so much blood about me, and so many poor dead 
bodies lying all around, that I took a disgust of the place that 
was almost as strong as fear. 

All the time I was washing out the block-house, and then 
washing up the things from dinner, this disgust and envy kept 
growing stronger and stronger, till at last, being near a bread- 
bag, and no one then observing me, I took the first step towards 
my escapade, and filled both pockets of my coat with biscuit. 

I was a fool, if you like, and certainly I was going to do a 
foolish, over-bold act ; but I was determined to do it with all 
the precautions in my power. These biscuits, should anything 
befall me, would keep me, at least, from starving till far on in 
the next day. 

The next thing I laid hold of was a brace of pistols, and as 
I already had a powder-horn and bullets, I felt myself well sup- 
plied with arms. 

As for the scheme I had in my head, it was not a bad one in 
itself. I was to go down the sandy spit that divides the an- 
chorage on the east from the open sea, find the white rock I had 
observed last evening and ascertain whether it was there or not 
that Ben G-unn had hidden his boat ; a thing quite worth doing, 
as I still believe. But as I was certain I should not be allowed • 
to leave the enclosure, my own plan was to take French leave, 0 ; 
and slip out when nobody was watching ; and that was so bad 
a way of doing it as made the thing itself wrong. But I was 
only a boy, and I had made my mind up. 

Well, as things at last fell out, I found an admirable oppor- 
tunity. The squire and Gray were busy helping the captain 
with his bandages ; the coast was clear ; I made a bolt for it 
over the stockade and into the thickest of the trees, and before 
my absence was observed I was out of cry of my companions. 

This was my second folly, far worse than the first, as I left 
but two sound men to guard the house ; but like the first, it 
was a help towards saving all of us. 


HOW MY SEA ADVENTURE BEGAN 


135 


I took my way straight for the east coast of the island, for I 
was determined to go down the sea side of the spit to avoid all 
chance of observation from the anchorage. It was already late 
in the afternoon, although still warm and sunny. As I con- 
tinued to thread the tall woods I could hear from far before me 
not only the continuous thunder of the surf, but a certain toss- 
ing of foliage and grinding of boughs which showed me the sea 
breeze had set in higher than usual. Soon cool draughts of air 
began to reach me ; and a few steps farther I came forth into 
the open borders of the grove, and saw the sea lying blue and 
sunny to the horizon, and the surf tumbling and tossing its 
foam along the beach. 

I have never seen the sea quiet round Treasure Island. The 
sun might blaze overhead, the air be without a breath, the 
surface smooth and blue, but still these great rollers would be 
running along all the external coast, thundering and thundering 
by day and night ; and I scarce believe there is one spot in the 
land where a man would be out of earshot of their noise. 

I walked along beside the surf with great enjoyment, till, 
thinking I was now got far enough to the south, I took the cover 
of some thick bushes, and crept warily up to the ridge of the spit . 0 

Behind me was the sea, in front the anchorage. The sea 
breeze, as though it had the sooner blown itself out by its un- 
usual violence, was already at an end ; it had been succeeded by 
light, variable airs from the south and south-east, carrying great 
banks of fog ; and the anchorage, under lee of Skeleton Island, 
lay still and leaden as when first we entered it. . The Hispaniola , 
in that unbroken mirror, was exactly portrayed from the truck 
to the water line, the Jolly Koger hanging from her peak. 

Alongside lay one of the gigs, Silver in the stern-sheets — 
him I could always recognise — while a couple of men were 
leaning over the stern bulwarks, one of them with a red cap — 
the very rogue that I had seen some hours before stride-legs upon 
the palisade. Apparently they were talking and laughing, 


136 


TREASURE ISLAND 


though at that distance — upwards of a mile — I could, of 
course, hear no word of what was said. All at once, there 
began the most horrid, unearthly screaming, which at first 
startled me badly, though I had soon remembered the voice of 
Captain Flint, and even thought I could make out the bird by 
her bright plumage as she sat perched upon her master’s wrist. 

Soon after the jolly-boat shoved off and pulled for shore, and 
the man with the red cap and his comrade went below by the 
cabin companion. 

Just about the same time the sun had gone down behind the 
Spy-glass, and as the fog was collecting rapidly, it began to 
grow dark in earnest. I saw I must lose no time if I were to 
find the boat that evening. 

The white rock, visible enough above the brush, was still 
some eighth of a mile further down 'the spit, and it took me a 
goodish while to get up with it, crawling, often on all-fours, 
among the scrub. Night had almost come when I laid my 
hand on its rough sides. Right below it there was an exceed- 
ingly small hollow of green turf, hidden by banks and a thick 
underwood about knee-deep, that grew there very plentifully ; and 
in the centre of the dell, sure enough, a little tent of goat-skins, 
like what the gipsies carry about with them in England. 

I dropped into the hollow, lifted the side of the tent, and 
there was Ben Cunn’s boat — home-made if ever anything was 
home-made : a rude, lop-sided framework of tough wood, and 
stretched upon that a covering of goat-skin, with the hair inside. 
The thing was extremely small, even for me, and I could hardly 
imagine that it could have floated with a full-sized man. There 
was one thwart set as low as possible, a kiud of stretcher in the 
bows, and a double paddle for propulsion. 

I had not then seen a coracle , 0 such as the ancient Britons 
made, but I have seen one since, and I can give you no fairer 
idea of Ben Gunn’s boat than by saying it was like the first and 
the worst coracle ever made by man. But the advantage of the 


HOW MY SEA ADVENTURE BEGAN 137 

coracle it certainly possessed, for it was exceedingly light and 
portable. 

Well, now that I had found the boat, you would have 
thought I had had enough of truantry for once; but, in the 
meantime, I had taken another notion, and become so obstinately 
fond of it, that I would have carried it out, I believe, in the teeth 
of Captain Smollett himself. This was to slip out under cover 
of the night, cut the Hispaniola adrift, and let her go ashore 
where she fancied. I had quite made up my mind that the 
mutineers, after their repulse of the morning, had nothing nearer 
their hearts than to up anchor and away to sea ; this, I thought, it 
would be a fine thing t6 prevent ; and now that I had seen how 
they left their watchmen unprovided with a boat, I thought it 
might be done with little risk. 

Down I sat to wait for darkness, and made a hearty meal of 
biscuit. It was a night out of ten thousand for my purpose. 
The fog had now buried all heaven. As the last rays of daylight 
dwindled and disappeared, absolute blackness settled down on 
Treasure Island. And when, at last, I shouldered the coracle, 
and groped my way stumblingly out of the hollow where I had 
supped, there were but two points visible on the whole anchorage. 

One was the great fire on shore, by which the defeated 
pirates lay carousing in the swamp. The other, a mere blur of 
light upon the darkness, indicated the position of the anchored 
ship. She had swung round to the ebb — her bow was now 
towards me — the only lights on board were in the cabin ; and 
what I saw was merely a reflection on the fog of the strong rays 
that flowed from the stern window. 

The ebb had already run some time, and I had to wade 
through a long belt of swampy sand, where I sank several times 
above the ankle, before I came to the edge of the retreating 
water, and wading a little way in, with some strength and 
dexterity, set my coracle, keel downwards, on the surface. 


CHAPTER XXIII 

THE EBB-TIDE RUNS 


The coracle — as I had ample reason to know before I was 
done with her — was a very safe boat for a person of my height 
and weight, both buoyant and clever in a seaway ; but she was 
the most cross-grained, lop-sided craft to manage. Do as you 
pleased, she always made more leeway than anything else, and 
turning round and round was the manoeuvre she was best at. 
Even Ben Gunn himself has admitted that she was “ queer to 
handle till you knew her way.” 

Certainly I did not know her way. She turned in every 
direction but the one I was bound to go ; the most part of the 
ti ne we were broadside on, and I am very sure I never should 
have made the ship at all but for the tide. By good fortune, 
pad He as I pleased, the tide was still sweeping me down ; and 
there lay the Hispaniola right in the fair way, hardly to be 
missed. 

First she loomed before me like a blot of something yet 
blacker than darkness, then her spars and hull began to take 
shape, and the next moment, as it seemed (for, the further I 
went, the brisker grew the current of the ebb), I was alongside 
of her hawser and had laid hold. 

The hawser was as taut as a bowstring, and the current so 
strong she pulled upon her anchor. All round the hull, in the 
blackness, the rippling current bubbled and chattered like a 
little mountain stream. One cut with my sea-gully, and the 
Hispaniola would go humming down the tide. 

138 


THE EBB-TIDE RUNS 


139 


So far so good ; but it next occurred to my recollection that 
a taut hawser, suddenly cut, is a thing as dangerous as a kick- 
ing horse. Ten to one, if I were so foolhardy as to cut the 
Hispaniola from her anchor, I and the coracle would be 
knocked clean out of the water. 

This brought me to a full stop, and if fortune had not again 
particularly favoured me, I should have had to abandon my 
design. But the light airs which had begun blowing from the 
south-east and south had hauled round after nightfall into the 
south-west. Just while I was meditating, a puff came, caught 
the Hispaniola , and forced her up into the current; and to my 
great joy, I felt the hawser slacken in my grasp, and the hand 
by which I held it dip for a second under water. 

With that I made my mind up, took out my gully, opened 
it with my teeth, and cut one strand after another, till the 
vessel swung only by two. Then I lay quiet, waiting to sever 
i these last when the strain should be once more lightened by 
I a breath of wind. 

All this time I had heard the sound of loud voices from the 
cabin ; but, to say truth, my mind had been so entirely taken 
up with other thoughts that I had scarcely given ear. Now, how- 
ever, when I had nothing else to do, I began to pay more heed. 

One I recognised for the coxswain’s, Israel Hands, that had 
been Flint’s gunner in former days. The other was, of course, 
my friend of the red night-cap. Both men -were plainly the 
worse of drink, and they were still drinking ; for, even while 
I was listening, one of them, with a drunken cry, opened the 
stern window and threw out something, which I divined to be 
an empty bottle. But they were not only tipsy ; it w^as plain 
that they were furiously angry. Oaths flew like hailstones, and 
every now and then there came forth such an explosion as I 
thought was sure to end in blows. But each time the quarrel 
passed off*, and the voices grumbled lower for a while, until the 
next crisis came, and, in its turn, passed away without result. 


140 


TREASURE ISLAND 


On shore, I could see the glow of the great camp fire burn- 
ing warmly through the shore-side trees. Someone was singing, 
a dull, old, droning sailor’s song, with a droop and a quaver 
at the end of every verse, and seemingly no end to it at all 
but the patience of the singer. I had heard it on the voyage 
more than once, and remembered these words : — 

“But one man of her crew alive, 

What put to sea with seventy-five.” 

And I thought it was a ditty rather too dolefully appropriate 
for a company that had met such cruel losses in the morning. 
But, indeed, from what I saw, all these buccaneers were as 
callous as the sea they sailed on. 

At last the breeze came ; the schooner sidled and drew nearer 
in the dark ; I felt the hawser slacken once more, and with a 
good, tough effort, cut the last fibres through. 

The breeze had but little action on the coracle, and I was 
almost instantly swept against the bows of the Hispaniola. At 
the same time the schooner began to turn upon her heel, spin- 
ning slowly, end for end, across the current. 

I wrought like a fiend, for I expected every moment to be 
swamped; and since I found I could not push the coracle 
directly oft* I now shoved straight astern. At length I was 
clear of my dangerous neighbour ; and just as I gave the last 
impulsion, my hands came across a light cord that was trailing 
overboard across the stern bulwarks. Instantly I grasped it. 

Why I should have done so I can hardly say. It was at 
first mere instinct ; but once I had it in my hands and found it 
fast, curiosity began to get the upper hand, and I determined I 
should have one look through the cabin window. 

I pulled in hand over hand on the cord, and, when I judged 
myself near enough, rose at infinite risk to about half my height, 
and thus commanded the roof and a slice of the interior of the 
cabin. 


THE EBB-TIDE RUNS 


141 


By this time the schooner and her little consort were gliding 
pretty swiftly through the water ; indeed, we had already fetched 
up level with the camp fire. The ship was talking, as sailors 
say, loudly, treading the innumerable ripples with an incessant 
weltering splash ; and until I got my eye above the window-sill 
; I could not comprehend why the watchmen had taken no alarm. 
One glance, however, was sufficient ; and it was only one glance 
that I durst take from that unsteady skiff. It showed me 
Hands and his companion locked together in deadly wrestle, 
each with a hand upon the other’s throat. 

I dropped upon the thwart again, none too soon, for I was 
j near overboard. I could see nothing for the moment but these 
two furious, encrimsoned faces, swaying together under the 
smoky lamp ; and I shut my eyes to let them grow once more 
familiar with the darkness. 

The endless ballad had come to an end at last, and the whole 
j diminished company about the camp fire had broken into the 
chorus I had heard so often : — 

“ Fifteen men on the dead man’s chest — 

Yo-ho-ho, and a bottle of rum! 

Drink and the devil had done for the rest — 

Yo-ho-ho, and a bottle of rum! ” 

I was just thinking how busy drink and the devil were at 
that very moment in the cabin of the Hispaniola , when I was 
surprised by a sudden lurch of the coracle. At the same mo- 
ment she yawed sharply and seemed to change her course. The 
speed in the meantime had strangely increased. 

I opened my eyes at once. All round me were little ripples, 
combing over with a sharp, bristling sound and slightly phos- 
phorescent. The Hispaniola herself, a few yards in whose wake 
I was still being whirled along, seemed- to stagger in her course, 
and I saw her spars toss a little against the blackness of the 
night ; nay, as I looked longer, I made sure she also was wheel- 
ing to the southward. 


142 


TREASURE ISLAND 


I glanced over my shoulder, and my heart jumped against 
my ribs. There, right behind me, was the glow of the camp 
fire. The current had turned at right angles, sweeping round 
along with it the tall schooner and the little dancing coracle ; 
ever quickening, ever bubbling higher, ever muttering louder, it 
went spinning through the narrows for the open sea. 

Suddenly the schooner in front of me gave a violent yaw, turn- 
ing, perhaps, through twenty degrees ; and almost at the same 
moment one shout followed another from on board ; I could hear 
feet pounding on the companion ladder ; and I knew that the 
two drunkards had at last been interrupted in their quarrel and 
awakened to a sense of their disaster. 

I lay down flat in the bottom of that wretched skiff, and 
devoutly recommended my spirit to its Maker. At the end of 
the straits, I inade sure we must fall into some bar of raging 
breakers, where all my troubles would be ended speedily ; and 
though I could, perhaps, bear to die, I could not bear to look 
upon my fate as it approached. 

So I must have lain for hours, continually beaten to and fro 
upon the billows, now and again wetted with flying sprays, and 
never ceasing to expect death at the next plunge. Gradually 
weariness grew upon me ; a numbness, an occasional stupor, fell 
upon my mind even in the midst of my terrors ; until sleep at 
last supervened, and in my sea-tossed coracle I lay and dreamed 
of home and the old “ Admiral Benbow.” 


CHAPTER XXIV 


THE CRUISE OF THE CORACLE 

It was broad day when I awoke, and found myself tossing at 
the south-west end of Treasure Island. The sun was up, but 
was still hid from me behind the great bulk of the Spy-glass, 
which on this side descended almost to the sea in formidable 
cliffs. 

Haulbowline Head and Mizzen-mast Hill were at my elbow ; 
the hill bare and dark, the head bound with cliffs forty or fifty 
| feet high, and fringed with great masses of fallen rock. I was 
scarce a quarter of a mile to seaward, and it was my first thought 
to paddle in and land. 

That notion was soon given over. Among the fallen rocks 
the breakers spouted and bellowed ; loud reverberations, heavy 
sprays flying and falling, succeeded one another from second to 
second ; and I saw myself, if I ventured nearer, dashed to death 
upon the rough shore, or spending my strength in vain to scale 
the beetling crags. 

Nor was that all; for crawling together on flat tables of rock, 
or letting themselves drop into the sea with loud reports, I 
beheld huge slimy monsters — soft snails, as it were, of incredi- 
ble bigness — two or three score of them together, making the 
rocks to echo with their barkings. 

I have understood since that they were sea-lions, and entirely 
harmless. But the look of them, added to the difficulty of the 
shore and the high running of the surf, was more than enough 

143 


144 


TREASURE ISLAND 


to disgust me of that landing-place. I felt willing rather to 
starve at sea than to confront such perils. 

In the meantime I had a better chance, as I supposed, before 
me. North of Haulbowline Head, the land runs in a long way, 
leaving, at low tide, a long stretch of yellow sand. To the north 
of that, again, there comes another cape — Cape of the Woods, 
as it was marked upon the chart — buried in tall green pines, 
which descended to the margin of the sea. 

I remembered what Silver had said about the current that 
sets northward along the whole west coast of Treasure Island ; 
and seeing from my position that I was already under its influ- 
ence, I preferred to leave Haulbowline Head behind me, and 
reserve my strength for an attempt to land upon the kindlier- 
looking Cape of the Woods. 

There was a great, smooth swell upon the sea. The wind 
blowing steady and gentle from the south, there was no contra- 
riety between that and the current, and the billows rose and fell 
unbroken. 

Had it been otherwise, I must long ago have perished ; but 
as it was, it is surprising how easily and securely my little and 
light boat could ride. Often, as I still lay at the bottom, and 
kept no more than an eye above the gunwale, I would see a big 
blue summit heaving close above me ; yet the coracle would but 
bounce a little, dance as if on springs, and subside on the other 
side into the trough as lightly as a bird. 

I began after *a little to grow very bold, and sat up to try my 
skill at paddling. But even a small change in the disposition 
of the weight will produce violent changes in the behaviour of a 
coracle. And I had hardly moved before the boat, giving up at 
once her gentle dancing movement, ran straight down a stope of 
water so steep that it made me giddy, and struck her nose, with 
a sprout of spray, deep into the side of the next wave. 

I was drenched and terrified, and fell instantly back into my 
old position, whereupon the coracle seemed to find her head again, 


THE CRUISE OF THE CORACLE 


145 


and led me as softly as before among the billows. It was plain 
she was not to be interfered with, and at that rate, since I could 
: in no way influence her course, what hope had I left of reaching 
j land 1 

I began to be horribly frightened, but I kept my head, for all 
that. First, moving with all care, I gradually baled out the 
J coracle with my sea-cap ; then getting my eye once more above 
! the gunwale, I set myself to study how it was she managed to 
slip so quietly through the rollers. 

I found each wave, instead of the big, smooth, glossy moun- 
! tain it looks from shore, or from a vessel’s deck, was for all the 
;! world like any range of hills on the dry land, full of peaks and 
smooth places and valleys. The coracle, left to herself, turning 
from side to side, threaded, so to speak, her way through these 
lower parts, and avoided the steep slopes and higher, toppling 
summits of the wave. 

“Well, now,” thought I to myself, “it is plain I must lie 
where I am, and not disturb the balance ; but it is plain, also, 
that I can put the paddle over the side, and from time to time, 
in smooth places, give her a shove or two towards land.” No 
sooner thought upon than done. There I lay on my elbows, in 
the most trying attitude, and every now and again gave a weak 
stroke or two to turn her head to shore. 

It was very tiring, and slow work, yet I did visibly gain 
ground; and, as we drew near the Cape of the Woods, though 
I saw I must infallibly miss that point, I had still made some 
hundred yards of easting. I was, indeed, close in. I could see 
the cool, green tree-tops swaying together in the breeze, and I 
felt sure I should make the next promontoiy without fail. 

It was high time, for I now began to be tortured with thirst. 
The glow of the sun from above, its thousandfold reflection from 
the waves, the sea-water that fell and dried upon me, caking 
my very lips with salt, combined to make my throat burn and 
my brain ache. The sight of the trees so near at hand had 

^ L 


146 


TREASURE ISLAND 


almost made me sick with longing ; but the current had soon 
carried me past the point ; and, as the next reach of sea opened 
out, I beheld a sight that changed the nature of my thoughts. 

Right in front of me, not half a mile away, I beheld the 
Hispaniola under sail. I made sure, of course, that I should 
be taken ; but I was so distressed for want of water, that I 
scarce knew whether to be glad or sorry at the thought ; and, 
long before I had come to a conclusion, surprise had taken en- 
tire possession of my mind, and I could do nothing but stare 
and wonder. 

The Hispaniola was under her main-sail and tw T o jibs, and 
the beautiful white canvas shone in the sun like snow or silver. 
When I first sighted her, all her sails were drawing ; she was 
lying a course about north-west ; and I presumed the men on 
board were going round the island on their way back to the 
anchorage. Presently she 'began to fetch more and more to the 
westward, so that I thought they had sighted me and were go- 
ing about in chase. At last, however, she fell right into the 
wind’s eye, was taken dead aback, and stood there a while 
helpless, with her sails shivering. 

“ Clumsy fellows,” said I ; “ they must still be drunk as 
owls.” And I thought how Captain Smollett would have set 
them skipping. 

Meanwhile, the schooner gradually fell oft', and filled again 
upon another tack, sailed swiftly for a minute or so, and 
brought up once more dead in the wind’s eye. Again and 
again was this repeated. To and fro, up and down, north, 
south, east, and west, the Hispaniola sailed by swoops and 
dashes, and at each repetition ended as she had begun, with idly- 
flapping canvas. It became plain to me that nobody was steering. 
And, if so, where were the men? Either they were dead 
drunk, or had deserted her, I thought, and perhaps if I could 
get on board, I might return the vessel to her captain. 

The current was bearing coracle and schooner southward at 


THE CRUISE OF THE CORACLE 


147 


an equal rate. As for the latter’s sailing, it was so wild and 
| intermittent, and she hung each time so long in irons, that she 
; certainly gained nothing, if she did not even lose. If only I 
| dared to sit up and paddle, I made sure that I could overhaul 
her. The scheme had an air of adventure that inspired me, and 
I. the thought of the water breaker beside the fore companion 
, doubled my growing courage. 

Up I got, was welcomed almost instantly by another cloud 
of spray, but this time stuck to my purpose ; and set myself, 
j! with all my strength and caution, to paddle after the unsteered 
I Hispaniola. Once I shipped a sea so heavy that I had to stop 
i and bale, with my heart fluttering like a bird ; but gradually I 
| got into the way of the thing, and guided my coracle among 
I the waves, with only now and then a blow upon her bows and 
a dash of foam in my face. 

I was now gaining rapidly on the schooner ; I could see the 
, brass glisten on the tiller as it banged about ; and still no soul 
appeared upon decks. I could not choose but suppose she 
i was deserted. If not, the men were lying drunk below, where 
I might batten them down, perhaps, and do what I chose with 
| the ship. 

For some time she had been doing the worst thing possible 
i for me — standing still. She headed nearly due south, yawing, 
of course, all the time. Each time she fell off her sails partly 
filled, and these brought her, in a moment, right to the wind 
again. I have said this was the worst thing possible for me ; 
for helpless as she looked in this situation, with the canvas 
cracking like cannon, and the blocks trundling and banging on 
the deck, she still continued to run aw^ay from me, not only 
with the speed of the current, but by the wdiole amount of her 
leeway, which was naturally great. 

But now, at last, I had my chance. The breeze fell, for 
some seconds, very low, and the current gradually turning her, 
the Hispaniola revolved slowly round her centre, and at last 


148 


TREASURE ISLAND 


presented me her stern, with the cabin window still gaping 
open, and the lamp over the table still burning on into the 
day. The main-sail hung drooped like a banner. She was 
stock-still, but for the current. 

For the last little while I had even lost ; but now redoub- 
ling my efforts, I began once more to overhaul the chase. 

I was not a hundred yards from her when the wind came 
again in a clap ; she filled on the port tack, and was off again, 
stooping and skimming like a swallow. 

My first impulse was one of despair, but my second was to- 
wards joy. Round she came, till she was broadside on to me — 
round still till she had covered a half, and then two-thirds, and 
then three-quarters of the distance that separated us. I could 
see the waves boiling white under her forefoot. Immensely 
tall she looked to me from my low station in the coracle. 

And then, of a sudden, I began to comprehend. I had 
scarce time to think — scarce time to act and save myself. I 
w T as on the summit of one swell when the schooner came stoop- 
ing over the next. The bowsprit was over my head. I sprang 
to my feet, and leaped, stamping the coracle under water. 
With one hand I caught the jib-boom, while my foot was lodged 
between the stay and the brace ; and as I still clung there 
panting, a dull blow told me that the schooner had charged 
down upon and struck the coracle, and that I was left without 
retreat on the Hispaniola. 


CHAPTER XXV 


I STRIKE THE JOLLY ROGER 

I hah scarce gained a position on the bowsprit, when the fly- 
ing jib flapped and filled upon the other tack, with a report like 
a gun. The schooner trembled to her keel under the reverse ; 
but next moment, the other sails still drawing, the jib flapped 
back again, and hung idle. 

This had nearly tossed me off into the sea ; and now I lost 
no time, crawled back along the bowsprit, and tumbled head 
foremost on the deck. 

I was on the lee side of the forecastle, and the main-sail, 
which was still drawing, concealed from me a certain portion of 
the after-deck. Not a soul was to be seen. The planks, which 
had not been swabbed since the mutiny, bore the print of many 
feet ; and an empty bottle, broken by the neck, tumbled to and 
fro like a live thing in the scuppers. 

Suddenly the Hispaniola came right into the wind. The 
jibs behind me cracked aloud ; the rudder slammed to ; the 
whole ship gave a sickening heave and shudder, and at the 
same moment the main-boom swung inboard, the sheet groan- 
ing in the blocks, and showed me the lee after-deck. 

There were the two watchmen, sure enough : red-cap on his 
back, as stiff as a handspike, with his arms stretched out like 
those of a crucifix, and his teeth showing through his open lips ; 
Israel Hands propped against the bulwarks, his chin on his 

149 


150 


TREASURE ISLAND 


chest, his hands lying open before him on the deck, his face as 
white, under its tan, as a tallow candle. 

For a while the ship kept bucking and sidling like a vicious 
horse, the sails filling, now on one tack, now on another, and 
the boom swinging to and fro till the mast groaned aloud under ; 
the strain. Now and again, too, there would come a cloud of ? 
light sprays over the bulwark, and a heavy blow of the ship’s 
bows against the swell : so much heavier weather was made of 
it by this great rigged ship than by my home-made lop-sided 
coracle, now gone to the bottom of the sea. 

At every jump of the schooner, red-cap slipped to and fro; 
but — what was ghastly to behold — neither his attitude nor his | 
fixed teeth-disclosing grin was anyway disturbed by this rough :j 
usage. At every jump, too, Hands appeared still more to sink 
into himself and settle down upon the deck, his feet sliding 
ever the farther out, and the whole body canting towards the | 
stern, so that his face became, little by little, hid from me ; 1 
and at last I could see nothing beyond his ear and the frayed < 
ringlet of one whisker. 

At the same time, I observed, around both of them, splash- I 
ing of dark blood upon the planks, and began to feel sure that 1 
they had killed each other in their drunken wrath. 

While I was thus looking and wondering, in a calm moment, 1 
when the ship was still, Israel Hands turned partly round, and, I 
with a low moan, writhed himself back to the position in which j 
I had seen him first. The moan, which told of pain and deadly 1 
weakness, and the way in which his jaw hung open, went right 1 
to my heart. But when I remembered the talk I had overheard ' 
from the apple barrel, all pity left me. 

I walked aft until I reached the main-mast. 

“ Come aboard, Mr. Hands,” I said ironically. 

He rolled his eyes round heavily ; but he was too far gone 
to express surprise. All he could do was to utter one word, 

“ Brandy.” 


1 STRIKE THE JOLLY ROGER 


151 


It occurred to me there was no time to lose ; and, dodging 
the boom as it once more lurched across the deck, I slipped 
aft, and down the companion stairs into the cabin. 

It was such a scene of confusion as you can hardly fancy. 
All the lockfast places had been broken open in quest of the 
chart. The floor was thick with mud, where ruffians had sat 
down to drink or consult after wading in the marshes round 
their camp. The bulkheads, all painted in clear white, and 
beaded round with gilt, bore a pattern of dirty hands. Dozens 
of empty bottles clinked together in corners to the rolling of 
the ship. One of the doctor’s medical books lay open on the 
table, half of the leaves gutted out, I suppose, for pipelights. 
In the midst of all this the lamp still cast a smoky glow, ob- 
scure and brown as umber. 

I went into the cellar ; all the barrels were gone, and of the 
bottles a most surprising number had been drunk out and 
thrown away. Certainly, since the mutiny began, not a man 
of them could ever have been sober. 

Foraging about, I found a bottle with some brandy left, for 
Hands ; and for myself I routed out some biscuit, some pickled 
fruits, a great bunch of raisins, and a piece of cheese. With 
these I came on deck, put down my own stock behind the rud- 
der-head, and well out of the coxswain’s reach, went forward 
to the water breaker, and had a good, deep drink of water, and 
then, and not till then, gave Hands the brandy. 

He must have drunk a gill before he took the bottle from 
his mouth. 

“Aye,” said he, “by thunder, but I wanted some o’ that ! ” 

I had sat down already in my own corner and begun to eat. 

“ Much hurt ? ” I asked him. 

He grunted, or, rather, I might say, he barked. 

“ If that doctor was aboard,” he said, “ I’d be right enough 
in a couple of turns ; but I don’t have no manner of luck, you 
see, and that’s what’s the matter with me. As for that swab, 


152 


TREASURE ISLAND 


he’s good and dead, he is,” he added, indicating the man with 
the red cap. “He warn’t no seaman, anyhow. And where 
mought you have come from ? ” 

“Well,” said I, “I’ve come aboard to take possession of this 
ship, Mr. Hands ; and you’ll please regard me as your captain 
until further notice.” 

He looked at me sourly enough, but said nothing. Some of the 
colour had come back into his cheeks, though he still looked 
very sick, and still continued to slip out and settle down as the 
ship banged about. 

“ By-the-by,” I continued, “ I can’t have these colours, Mr. 
Hands ; and, by your leave, I’ll strike ’em. Better none than 
these.” 

And, again dodging the boom, I ran to the colour lines, 
handed down their cursed black flag, and chucked it over- 
board. 

“ God save the king ! ” said I, waving my cap ; “ and there’s 
an end to Captain Silver ! ” 

He watched me keenly and slyly, his chin all the while on 
his breast. 

“ I reckon,” he said at last — “I reckon, Cap’n Hawkins, 
you’ll kind of want to get ashore, now. S’pose we talks.” 

“ Why, yes,” says I, “ with all my heart, Mr. Hands. Say 
on.” And I went back to my meal with a good appetite. 

“ This man,” he began, nodding feebly at the corpse — “ O’Brien 
were his name — a rank Irelander — this man and me got the 
canvas on her, meaning for to sail her back. Well, he's dead 
now, he is — as dead as bilge; and who’s to sail this ship, I 
don’t see. Without I gives you a hint, you ain’t that man, as 
far’s I can tell. Now, look here, you gives me food and drink, 
and a old scarf or ankecher to tie my wound up, you do ; and 
I’ll tell you how to sail her ; and that’s about square all round, 
I take it.” 

“ I’ll tell you one thing,” says I ; “ I’m not going back to Cap- 


I STRIKE THE JOLLY ROGER 


153 


tain Kidd’s anchorage. I mean to get into North Inlet, and 
beach her quietly there.” 

“To be sure you did,” he cried. “Why, I ain’t sich an in- 
fernal lubber, after all. I can see, can’t 1 1 I’ve tried my fling, 
I have, and I’ve lost, and it’s you has the wind of me. North 
Inlet ? Why, I have no ch’ice, not I ! I’d help you sail her 
up to Execution Dock, by thunder ! so I would.” 

Well, as it seemed to me, there was some sense in this. We 
struck our bargain on the spot. In three minutes I had the 
Hispaniola sailing easily before the wind along the coast of 
Treasure Island, with good hopes of turning the northern point 
ere noon, and beating down again as far as North Inlet before 
high water, when we might beach her safely, and wait till the 
subsiding tide permitted us to land. 

Then I lashed the tiller and went below to my own chest, 
where I got a soft silk handkerchief of my mother’s. With this, 
and with my aid, Hands bound up the great bleeding stab he 
had received in the thigh, and after he had eaten a little and 
had a swallow or two more of the brandy, he began to pick up 
visibly, sat straighter up, spoke louder and clearer, and looked 
in every way another man. 

The breeze served us admirably. We skimmed before it like 
a bird, the coast of the island flashing by, and the view chang- 
ing eveiy minute. Soon we were past the high lands and bowl- 
ing beside low, sandy country, sparsely dotted with dwarf pines, 
and soon we were beyond that again, and had turned the corner 
of the rocky hill that ends the island on the north. 

I was greatly elated with my new command, and pleased with 
the bright, sunshiny weather and these different prospects of the 
coast. I had now plenty of water and good things to eat, and 
my conscience, which had smitten me hard for my desertion, 
was quieted by the great conquest I had made. I should, I 
think, have had nothing left me to desire but for the eyes of 
the coxswain as they followed me derisively about the deck, and 


154 


TREASURE ISLAND 


the odd smile that appeared continually on his face. It was a 
smile that had in it something both of pain and weakness — a 
haggard, old man’s smile ; but there was, besides that, a grain 
of derision, a shadow of treachery, in his expression as he craft- 
ily watched, and watched, and watched me at my work. 


CHAPTER XXVI 


ISRAEL HANDS 

I The wind, serving us to a desire, now hauled into the west. 
We could run so much the easier from the north-east corner of 
the island to the mouth of the North Inlet. Ordy, as we had 
no power to anchor, and dared not beach her till the tide had 
flowed a good deal farther, time hung on our hands. The cox- 
! swain told me how to lay the ship to ; after a good many trials 
j I succeeded, and we both sat in silence, over another meal. 

“ Cap’n,” said he, at length, with that same uncomfortable 
i smile, “ here’s my old shipmate, O’Brien ; s’pose you was to 
heave him overboard. I ain’t partic’lar as a rule, and I don’t 
j take no blame for settling his hash ; but I don’t reckon him 
: ornamental, now, do you ? ” 

“ I’m not strong enough, and I don’t like the job ; and there 
he lies, for me,” said I. 

“This here’s an unlucky ship — this Hispaniola , Jim,” he 
j went on, blinking. “ There’s a power of men been killed in 
i this Hispaniola — a sight o’ poor seamen dead and gone since 
| you and me took ship to Bristol. I never seen sich dirty luck, 
j not I. There was this here O’Brien, now — he’s dead, ain’t he 1 
; Well, now, I’m no scholar, and you’re a lad as can read and 
j figure ; and to put it straight, do you take it as a dead man is 
dead for good, or do he come alive again ? ” 

“ You can kill the body, Mr. Hands, but not the spirit ; you 
must know that already,” I replied. “ O’Brien there is in an- 
other world, and maybe watching us,” 

155 


156 


TREASURE ISLAND 


“Ah ! ” says he. “ Well, that’s unfort’nate — appears as if 
killing parties was a waste of time. Howsomever, sperrits don’t 
reckon for much, by what I’ve seen. I’ll chance it with the 
sperrits, Jim. And now, you’ve spoke up free, and I’ll take it 
kind if you’d step down into that there cabin and get me a — 
well, a — shiver my timbers ! I can’t hit the name on’t ; well, 
you get me a bottle of wine, Jim, — this here brandy’s too strong 
for my head.” 

Now, the coxswain’s hesitation seemed to be unnatural ; and 
as for the notion of his preferring wine to brandy, I entirely dis- 
believed it. The whole story was a pretext. He wanted me to 
leave the deck — so much was plain ; but with what purpose I 
could in no way imagine. His eyes never met mine ; they kept 
wandering to and fro, up and down, now with a look to the sky, 
now with a flitting glance upon the dead O’Brien. All the time 
he kept smiling, and putting his tongue out in the most guilty, 
embarrassed manner, so that a child could have told that he was 
bent on some deception. I was prompt with my answer, how- 
ever, for I saw where my advantage lay ; and that with a fellow 
so densely stupid I could easily conceal my suspicions to the 
end. 

“ Some wine ? ” I said. “ Far better. Will you have white 
or red ? ” 

“ Well, I reckon it’s about the blessed same to me, shipmate,”; 1 
he replied ; “ so it’s strong, and plenty of it, what’s the odds? ”> 

“ All right,” I answered. “ I’ll bring you port, Mr. Hands. 
But I’ll have to dig for it.” 

With that I scuttled down the companion with all the noise I 
could, slipped off my shoes, ran quietly along the sparred gallery, 
mounted the forecastle ladder, and popped my head out of the 
fore companion. I knew he would not expect to see me there ; 
yet I took every precaution possible ; and certainly the worst of 
my suspicions proved too true. 

He had risen from his position to his hands and knees ; and, 


ISRAEL HANDS 


157 


1 though his leg obviously hurt him pretty sharply when he 
moved — for I could hear him stifle a groan — yet it was at a 
good, rattling rate that he trailed himself across the deck. In 
half a minute he had reached the port scuppers, and picked, out 
of a coil of rope, a long knife, or rather a short dirk, discoloured 
to the hilt with blood. He looked upon it for a moment, thrust- 
ing forth his under jaw, tried the point upon his hand, and then, 
hastily concealing it in the bosom of his jacket, trundled back 
again into his old place against the bulwark. 

This was all that I required to know. Israel could move 
about; he was now armed; and if he had been at so much 
trouble to get rid of me, it was plain that I was meant to be 

I the victim. "What he would do afterwards — whether he would 
try to crawl right across the island from North Inlet to the camp 
among the swamps, or whether he would fire Long Tom, trust- 
ing that his own comrades might come first to help him, was, of 
course, more than I could say. 

Yet I felt sure that I could trust him in one point, since in 
that our interests jumped together, and that was in the disposi- 
tion of the schooner. We both desired to have her stranded 
safe enough, in a sheltered place, and so that, when the time 
came, she could be got off again with as little labour and danger 
as might be ; and until that was done I considered that my life 
would certainly be spared. 

While I was thus turning the business over in my mind, I had 
not been idle with my body. I had stolen back to the cabin, 
slipped once more into my shoes, and laid my hand at random 
on a bottle of wine, and now, with this for an excuse, I made 
my re-appearance on the deck. 

Hands lay as I had left him, all fallen together in a bundle, 
and with his eyelids lowered, as though he were too weak to 
bear the light. He looked up, however, at my coming, knocked 
the neck off the bottle, like a man who had done the same thing 
often, and took a good swig, with his favourite toast of “ Here’s 


158 


TREASURE ISLAND 


luck ! ” Then he lay quiet for a little, and then, pulling out a 
stick of tobacco, begged me to cut him a quid. 

“Cut me a junk o’ that,” says he, “for I Haven’t no knife, 
and hardly strength enough, so be as I had. Ah, Jim, Jim, I 
reckon I’ve missed stays 0 ! Cut me a quid, as’ll likely be the 
last, lad ; for I’m for my long home, and no mistake.” 

“ Well,” said I, “I’ll cut you some tobacco ; but if I was you 
and thought myself so badly, I would go to my prayers, like a 
Christian man.” 

“ Why 1 ” said he. “ Now, you tell me why.” 

“ Why ? ” I cried. “ You were asking me just now about the 
dead. You’ve broken your trust ; you’ve lived in sin and lies 
and blood ; there’s a man you killed lying at your feet this 
moment ; and you ask me why ! For God’s mercy, Mr. Hands, 
that’s why.” 

I spoke with a little heat, thinking of the bloody dirk he had 
hidden in his pocket, and designed, in his ill thoughts, to end 
me with. He, for his part, took a great draught of the wins 
and spoke with the most unusual solemnity. 

“For thirty years,” he said, “I’ve sailed the seas, and seen 
good and bad, better aud worse, fair weather and foul, provisions 
running out, knives going, and what not. Well, now I tell you, 
I never seen good come o’ goodness yet. Him as strikes first is 
my fancy ; dead men don’t bite ; them’s my views — amen, so 
be it. And now, you look here,” he added, suddenly changing, 
his tone, “ we’ve had about enough of this foolery. The tide’s 
made good enough by now. You just take my orders, Cap’n 
Hawkins, and we’ll sail slap in and be done with it.” 

All told, we had scarce two miles to run ; but the navigation 
was delicate, the entrance to this northern anchorage was not 
only narrow and shoal, but lay east and west, so that the 
schooner must be nicely handled to be got in. I think I was a 
good, prompt subaltern, and I am very sure that Hands was 
an excellent pilot ; for we went about and about, and dodged in, 


ISRAEL HANDS 


159 


shaving the banks, with a certainty and a neatness that were a 
pleasure to behold. 

Scarcely had we passed the heads before the land closed 
around us. The shores of North Inlet were as thickly wooded 
as those of the southern anchorage ; but the space was longer 
and narrower, and more like, what in truth it was, the estuary 
of a river. Right before us, at the southern end, we saw the 
wreck of a ship in the last stages of dilapidation. It had been 
a great vessel of three masts, but had lain so long exposed to the 
injuries of the weather, that it was hung about with great webs 
of dripping seaweed, and on the deck of it shore bushes had 
taken root, and now flourished thick with flowers. It was a 
sad sight, but it showed us that the anchorage was calm. 

“ Now,” said Hands, “ look there ; there’s a pet bit for to 
beach a ship in. Fine flat sand, never a catspaw, trees all 
around of it, and flowers a-blowing like a garding on that old 
ship.” 

“ And once beached,” I inquired, “ how shall w r e get her off 
again 1 ” 

“ Why, so,” he replied : “ you take a line ashore there on the 
other side at low water ; take a turn about one o’ them big 
pines ; bring it back, take a turn round the capstan, and lie-to 
for the tide. Come high water, all hands take a pull upon the 
line, and off she comes as sweet as natur’. And now, boy, 
you stand by. We’re near the bit now, and she’s too much 
way on her. Starboard a little — so — steady — starboard — 
larboard a little — steady — steady ! ” 

So he issued his commands, which I breathlessly obeyed ; 
till, all of a sudden, he cried, “Now, my hearty, luff ! ” And I 
put the helm hard up, and the Hispaniola swung round rapidly, 
and ran stem on for the low wooded shore. 

The excitement of these last manoeuvres had somewhat in- 
terfered with the watch I had kept hitherto, sharply enough, 
upon the coxswain. Even then I was still so much interested, 


160 


TREASURE ISLAND 


waiting for the ship to touch, that I had quite forgot the peril 
that hung over my head, and stood craning over the starboard 
bulwarks and watching the ripples spreading wide before the 
bows. I might have fallen without a struggle for my life, had 
not a sudden disquietude seized upon me, and made me turn my 
head. Perhaps I had heard a creak, or seen his shadow moving 
with the tail of my eye ; perhaps it was an instinct like a cat’s ; 
but, sure enough, when I looked round, there was Hands, already 
half-way towards me, with the dirk in his right hand. 

We must both have cried out aloud when our eyes met ; but 
while mine was the shrill cry of terror, his was a roar of fury like 
a charging bull’s. At the same instant he threw himself for- 
ward, and I leapt sideways towards the bov r s. As I did sol 
I let go of the tiller, which sprang sharp to leeward ; and I 
think this saved my life, for it struck Hands across the chest, 
and stopped him, for the moment, dead. 

Before he could recover, I was safe out of the corner where- 
he had me trapped, with all the deck to dodge about. J ust 
forward of the main-mast, I stopped, drew a pistol from my 
pocket, took a cool aim, though he had already turned and was 
once more coming directly after me, and drew 7 the trigger. The 
hammer fell, but there followed neither flash nor sound ; the 
priming was useless with sea water. I cursed myself for my 
neglect. Why had not I, long before, reprimed and reloaded 
my only weapons ? Then I should not have been, as now, a 
mere fleeing sheep before this butcher. 

Wounded as he w r as, it was wonderful how fast he could move, 
his grizzled hair tumbling over his face, and his face itself as red 
as a red ensign with his haste and fury. I had no time to try 
my other pistol, nor, indeed, much inclination, for I was sure it 
would be useless. One thing I saw plainly : I must not simply 
retreat before him, or he would speedily hold me boxed into the 
bows, as a moment since he had so nearly boxed me in the stern. 
Once so caught, and nine or ten inches of the blood-stained dirk 


ISRAEL HANDS 


161 


would be my last experience on this side of eternity. I placed 
my palms against the main-mast, which was of a goodish bigness, 
and waited, every nerve upon the stretch. 

Seeing that I meant to dodge, he also paused ; and a moment 
or two passed in feints on his part, and corresponding move- 
ments upon mine. It was such a game as I had often played at 
home about the rocks of Black Hill Cove ; but never before, you 
may be sure, with such a wildly beating heart as now. Still, as 
I say, it was a boy’s game, and I thought I could hold my own 
at it, against an elderly seaman with a wounded thigh. Indeed, 
my courage had begun to rise so high, that I allowed myself a 
few darting thoughts on what would be the end of the affair ; 
and while I saw certainly that I could spin it out for long, I 
saw no hope of any ultimate escape. 

Well, while things stood thus, suddenly the Hispaniola 
struck, staggered, ground for an. instant in the sand, and then, 
swift as a blow, canted over to the port side, till the deck 
stood at an angle of forty-five degrees, and about a puncheon of 
water splashed into the scupper holes, and lay, in a pool, be- 
tween the deck and bulwark. 

We were both of us capsized in a second, and both of us 
rolled, almost together, into the scuppers ; the dead red-cap, 
with his arms still spread out, tumbling stiffly after us. So 
near were we, indeed, that my head came against the cox- 
swain’s foot with a crack that made my teeth rattle. Blow 
and all, I was the first afoot again ; for Hands had got involved 
with the dead body. The sudden canting of the ship had made 
the deck no place for running on ; I had to find some new way 
of escape, and that upon the instant, for my foe was almost 
touching me. Quick as thought I sprang into the mizzen 
shrouds, rattled up hand over hand, and did not draw a breath 
till I was seated on the cross-trees. 

I had been saved by being prompt ; the dirk had struck not 
half a foot below me, as I pursued my upward flight ; and 


162 


TREASURE ISLAND 


there stood Israel Hands with his mouth open and his face up- 
turned to mine, a perfect statue of surprise and disappointment. 

Now that I had a moment to myself, I lost no time in | 
changing the priming of my pistol, and then, having one ready 1 
for service, and to make assurance doubly sure, I proceeded to 1 
draw the load of the other, and recharge it afresh from the » 
beginning. 

My new employment struck Hands all of a heap ; he began 1 
to see the dice going against him ; and after an obvious hesita- I 
tion, he also hauled himself heavily into the shrouds, and, with fl 
the dirk in his teeth, began slowly and painfully to mount. ;< 
It cost him no end of time and groans to haul his wounded 1 
leg behind him ; and I had quietly finished my arrangements 1 
before he was much more than a third of the way up. Then, 1 
with a pistol in either hand, I addressed him. 

“One more step, Mr. Hands,” said I, “and I’ll blow your 1 
brains out ! Dead men don’t bite, you know,” I added with a f 
chuckle. 

He stopped instantly. I could see by the working of his face I 
that he was trying to think, and the process was so slow and fl 
laborious that, in my new-found security, I laughed aloud. At 1 
last, with a swallow or two, he spoke, his face still wearing the fl 
same expression of extreme perplexity. In order to speak he fl 
had to take the dagger from his mouth, but, in all else, he re- fl 
rnained unmoved. 

“ Jim,” says he, “ I reckon we’re fouled, you and me, and 1 
we’ll have to sign articles. I’d have had you but for that there fl 
lurch : but I don’t have no luck, not I ; and I reckon I’ll have 1 
to strike, which comes hard, you see, for a master mariner fl 
to a ship’s younker like you, Jim.” 

I was drinking in his words, and smiling away, as conceited 9 
as a cock upon a wall, when, all in a breath, back went his a 
right hand over his shoulder. Something sang like an arrow » 
through the air : I felt a blow and then a sharp pang, and there 


ISRAEL HANDS 


163 


I was pinned by the shoulder to the mast. In the horrid pain 
and surprise of the moment — I scarce can say it was by my 
own volition, and I am sure it was without a conscious aim — 
both my pistols went off, and both escaped out of my hands. 
They did not fall alone ; with a choked cry, the coxswain 
loosed his grasp upon the shrouds, and plunged head first into 
the water. 


CHAPTER XXVII 


> j 

“pieces of eight” 

Owing to the cant of the vessel, the masts hung far out over 
the water, and from my perch on the cross-trees I had nothing . 
below me but the surface of the bay. Hands, who was not so \ 
far up, was, in consequence, nearer to the ship, and fell between 
me and the bulwarks. He rose once to the surface in a lather j 
of foam and blood, and then sank again for good. As the j 
water settled, I could see him lying huddled together on the ( 
clean, bright sand in the shadow of the vessel’s sides. A fish 
or two whipped past his body. Sometimes, by the quivering 
of the water, he appeared to move a little, as if he were trying ; 
to rise. But he was dead enough, for all that, being both shot 
and drowned, and was food for fish in the very place where he 
had designed my slaughter. 

I was no sooner certain of this than I began to feel sick, 
faint, and terrified. The hot blood was running over my back 
and chest. The dirk, where it had pinned my shoulder to 
the mast, seemed to burn like a hot iron ; yet it was not so 
much these real sufferings that distressed me, for these, it 
seemed to me, I could bear without a murmur; it was the 
horror I had upon my mind of falling from the cross-trees into 
that still green water, beside the body of the coxswain. 

I clung with both hands till my nails ached, and I shut my 
eyes as if to cover up the peril. Gradually my mind came 

164 


“PIECES OF EIGHT” 


165 


back again, my pulses quieted down to a more natural time, 
and I was once more in possession of myself. 

It was my first thought to pluck forth the dirk ; but either 
it stuck too hard or my nerve failed me ; and I desisted with a 
violent shudder. Oddly enough, that very shudder did the busi- 
ness. The knife, in fact, had come the nearest in the world to 
missing me altogether ; it held me by a mere pinch of skin, and 
this the shudder tore away. The blood ran down the faster, to 
be sure ; but I was my own master again, and only tacked to 
the mast by my coat and shirt. 

These last I broke through with a sudden jerk, and then re- 
gained the deck by the starboard shrouds. For nothing in the 
world would I have again ventured, shaken as I was, upon the 
overhanging port shrouds, from which Israel had so lately fallen. 

I went below, and did what I could for my wound ; it pained 
me a good deal, and still bled freely ; but it was neither deep 
nor dangerous, nor did it greatly gall me when I used my arm. 
Then I looked around me, and as the ship was now, in a sense, 
my own, I began to think of clearing it from its last passenger 
— the dead man, O’Brien. 

He had pitched, as I have said, against the bulwarks, where 
he lay like some horrible, ungainly sort of puppet ; life-size, in- 
deed, but how different from life’s colour or life’s comeliness ! 
In that position, I could easily have my way with him ; and as 
the habit of tragical adventures had worn off almost all my 
terror for the dead, I took him by the waist as if he had been 
a sack of bran, and with one good heave, tumbled him over- 
board. He went in with a sounding plunge ; the red cap came 
off, and remained floating on the surface ; and as soon as the 
splash subsided, I could see him and Israel lying side by side, 
both wavering with the tremulous movement of the water. 
O’Brien, though still quite a young man, was very bald. There 
he lay, with that bald head across the knees of the man who had 
killed him, and the quick fishes steering to and fro over both. 


166 


TREASURE ISLAND 


I was now alone upon the ship ; the tide had just turned. 
The sun was within so few degrees of setting that already the 
shadow of the pines upon the western shore began to reach 
right across the anchorage, and fall in patterns on the deck. 
The evening breeze had sprung up, and though it was well 
warded off by the hill with the two peaks upon the east, the 
cordage had begun to sing a little softly to itself and the idle 
sails to rattle to and fro. 

I began to see a danger to the ship. The jibs I speedily 
doused 0 and brought tumbling to the deck ; but the main-sail 
was a harder matter. Of course, when the schooner canted 
over, the boom had swung out-board, and the cap of it and a 
foot or two of sail hung even under water. I thought this 
made it still more dangerous ; yet the strain was so heavy that 
I half feared to meddle. At last, I got my knife and cut the 
halyards. The peak dropped instantly, a great belly of loose 
canvas floated broad upon the water; and since, pull as I liked, 
I could not budge the downhaul, that was the extent of what I 
could accomplish. For the rest, the Hispaniola must trust 
to luck, like myself. 

By this time the whole anchorage had fallen into shadow — 
the last rays, I remember, falling through a glade of the wood, 
and shining bright as jewels, on the flowery mantle of the wreck. 
It began to be chill ; the tide was rapidly fleeting seaward, the 
schooner settling more and more on her beam-ends. 

I scrambled forward and looked over. It seemed shallow 
enough, and holding the cut hawser in both hands for a last 
security, I let myself drop softly overboard. The water scarcely 
reached my waist ; the sand was firm and covered with ripple 
marks, and I waded ashore in great spirits, leaving the Hispan- 
iola on her side, with her main-sail trailing wide upon the 
surface of the bay. About the same time the sun went fairly 
down, and the breeze whistled low in the dusk among the toss- 
ing pines. 






“PIECES OF EIGHT ” 


167 


At least, and at last, I was off the sea, nor had I returned 
thence empty-handed. There lay the schooner, clear at last 
from buccaneers and ready for our own men to board and get 
to sea again. I had nothing nearer my fancy than to get home 
to the stockade and boast of my achievements. Possibly I 
might be blamed a bit for my truantry, but the recapture of 
| the Hispaniola was a clenching answer, and I hoped that even 
Captain Smollett would confess I had not lost my time. 

So thinking, and in famous spirits, I began to set my face 
homeward for the block-house and my companions. I remem- 
bered that the most easterly of the rivers which drain into 
Captain Kidd’s anchorage ran from the two-peaked hill upon 
my left ; and I bent my course in that direction that I might 
pass the stream while it was small. The wood was pretty open, 
and keeping along the lower spurs, I had soon turned the cor- 
ner of that hill, and not long after waded to the mid-calf across 
the water-course. 

This brought me near to where I had encountered Ben Gunn, 
the maroon j and I walked more circumspectly, keeping an eye 
on every side. The dusk had come nigh hand completely, and, 
as I opened out the cleft between the two peaks, I became 
aware of a wavering glow against the sky, where, as I judged, the 
man of the island was cooking his supper before a roaring fire. 
And yet I wondered, in my heart, that he should show himself 
so careless. For if I could see this radiance, might it not reach 
the eyes of Silver himself where he camped upon the shore 
among the marshes ? 

Gradually the night fell blacker ; it was all I could do to 
guide myself even roughly towards my destination ; the double 
hill behind me and the Spy-glass on my right hand loomed faint 
and fainter ; the stars were few and pale ; and in the low ground 
where I wandered I kept tripping among bushes and rolling into 
sandy pits. 

Suddenly a kind of brightness fell about me. I looked up ; 


168 


TREASURE ISLAND 


a pale glimmer of moonbeams had alighted on the summit of 
the Spy-glass, and soon after I saw something , broad and silvery 
moving low down behind the trees, and knew the moon had 
risen. 

With this to help me, I passed rapidly over what remained 
to me of my journey ; and, sometimes walking, sometimes run- \ 
ning, impatiently drew near to the stockade. Yet, as I began 1 
to thread the grove that lies before it, I was not so thoughtless 1 
but that I slacked my pace and went a trifle warily. It would 5j 
have been a poor end of my adventures to get shot down by my 
own party in mistake. 

The moon was climbing higher and higher ; its light began .9 
to fall here and there in masses through the more open districts fl 
of the wood ; and right in front of me a glow of a different fl 
colour appeared among the trees. It was red and hot, and I 
now and again it was a little darkened — as it were the embers fl 
of a bonfire smouldering. 

For the life of me, I could not think what it might be. 

At last I came right down upon the borders of the clearing. J 
The western end was already steeped in moonshine ; the rest, fl 
and the block-house itself, still lay in a black shadow, chequered I 
with long, silvery streaks of light. On the other side of the J 
house an immense fire had burned itself into clear embers and i 
shed a steady, red reverberation, contrasted strongly with the fl 
mellow paleness of the moon. There was not a soul stirring, fl 
nor a sound beside the noises of the breeze. 

I stopped, with much wonder in my heart, and perhaps a 
little terror also. It had not been our way to build great fires ; fl 
we were, indeed, by the captain’s orders, somewhat niggardly of ] 
firewood ; and I began to fear that something had gone wrong i 
while I was absent. 

I stole round by the eastern end, keeping close in shadow, ? 
and at a convenient place, where the darkness was thickest, | 
crossed the palisade. 


“ PIECES OF EIGHT” 


169 


To make assurance surer, I got upon my hands and knees, 
and crawled, without a sound, towards the corner of the house. 
As I drew nearer, my heart was suddenly and greatly lightened. 
It is not a pleasant noise in itself, and I have often complained 
of it at other times ; but just then it was like music to hear my 
friends snoring together so loud and peaceful in their sleep. 

I: Tire sea cry of the watch, that beautiful “ All’s well,” never fell 
more reassuringly on my ear. 

In the meantime, there was no doubt of one thing ; they kept 
an infamous bad watch. If it had been Silver and his lads that 
were now creeping in on them, not a soul would have seen day- 
break. That was what it was, thought I, to have the captain 
wounded ; and again I blamed myself sharply for leaving them 
in thar danger with so few to mount guard. 

By this time I had got to the door and stood up. All was 
dark within, so that I could distinguish nothing by the eye. 
As for sounds, there was the steady drone of the snorers, and a 
small occasional noise, a flickering or pecking that I could in no 
way account for. 

With my arms before me I walked steadily in. I should lie 
down in my own place (I thought, with a silent chuckle) and 
enjoy their faces when they found me in the morning. 

My foot struck something yielding — it was a sleeper’s leg ; 
and he turned and groaned, but without awaking. 

And then, all of a sudden, a shrill voice broke forth out of 
the darkness : — 

“ Pieces of eight ! pieces of eight ! pieces of eight ! pieces of 
eight ! pieces of eight ! ” and so forth, without pause or change, 
like the clacking of a tiny mill. 

Silver’s green parrot, Captain Flint ! It was she whom I 
heard pecking at a piece of bark ; it was she, keeping better 
watch than any human being, who thus announced my arrival 
with her wearisome refrain. 

I had no time left me to recover. At the sharp, clipping 


170 


TREASURE ISLAND 


tone of the parrot, the sleepers awoke and sprang up ; and with 
a mighty oath, the voice of Silver cried : — 

“ Who goes ? ” 

I turned to run, struck violently against one person, recoiled, 
and ran full into the arms of a second, who, for his part, closed 
upon and held me tight. 

“ Bring a torch, Dick,” said Silver, when my capture was 
thus assured. 

And one of the men left the log-house and presently returned 
with a lighted brand. 


PART VI 

CAPTAIN SILVER 


CHAPTER XXVIII 

IN THE ENEMY’S CAMP 

The red glare of the torch, lighting up the interior of the 
block-house, showed me the worst of my apprehensions realised. 
The pirates were in possession of the house and stores : there 
was the cask of cognac, there were the pork and bread, as be- 
fore ; and, what tenfold increased my horror, not a sign of any 
prisoner. I could only judge that all had perished, and my 
heart smote me sorely that I had not been there to perish with 
them. 

There were six of the buccaneers, all told ; not another man 
was left alive. Five of them were on their feet, flushed and 
swollen, suddenly called out of the first sleep of drunkenness. 
The sixth had only risen upon his elbow : he was deadly pale, 
and the bloodstained bandage round his head told that he had 
recently been wounded, and still more recently dressed. I re- 
membered the man who had been shot and had run back among 
the woods in the great attack, and doubted not that this was he. 

The parrot sat, preening her plumage, on Long John’s 
shoulder. He himself, I thought, looked somewhat paler and 
more stern than I was used to. He still wore the fine broadcloth 
suit in which he had fulfilled his mission, but it was bitterly 

171 


172 


TREASURE ISLAND 


the worse for wear, daubed with clay and torn with the sharp 
briers of the wood. 

“ So,” said he, “ here’s Jim Hawkins, shiver my timbers ! 
dropped in, like, eh ? Well, come, I take that friendly.” 

And thereupon he sat down across the brandy cask, and be- j 
gan to fill a pipe. 

“ Give me a loan of the link, Dick,” said he ; and then, 1 
when he had a good light, “ that’ll do, lad,” he added ; “ stick , 
the glim in the wood heap ; and you, gentlemen, bring your- | 
selves to ! — you needn’t stand up for Mr. Hawkins ; he'll 1 
excuse you, you may lay to that. And so, Jim” — stopping 1 
the tobacco — “ here you were, and quite a pleasant surprise I 
for poor old John. I see you were smart when first I set my 1 
eyes on you ; but this here gets away from me clean, it do.” jj 

To all this, as may be well supposed, I made no answer. They 1 
had set me with my back against the wall ; and I stood there, 1 
looking Silver in the face, pluckily enough, I hope, to all < 
outward appearance, but with black despair in my heart. 

Silver took a whiff or two of his pipe with great composure, ; 
and then ran on again. 

“Now, you see, Jim, so be as you are here,” says he, “I’ll 
give you a piece of my mind. I’ve always liked you, I have, l 
for a lad of spirit, and the picter of my own self when I was 
young and handsome. I always wanted you to jine and take your 
share, and die a gentleman, and now, my cock, you’ve got to. ■ 
Cap’n Smollett’s a fine seaman, as I’ll own up to any day, but ' 
stiff on discipline. ‘Dooty is dooty,’ says he, and right he is. 3 
Just you keep clear of the cap’n. The doctor himself is gone 
dead again you — ‘ ungrateful scamp ’ was what he said ; and the 
short and the long of the whole story is about here : you can’t go 
back to your own lot, for they won’t have you ; and, without 
you start a third ship’s company all by yourself, which might 
be lonely, you’ll have to jine with Cap’n Silver.” 

So far so good. My friends, then, were still alive, and though 


IN THE ENEMY'S CAMP 


173 


I partly believed the truth of Silver’s statement, that the cabin 
party were incensed at me for my desertion, I was more relieved 
than distressed by what I heard. 

“I don’t say nothing as to your being in our hands,” contin- 
ued Silver, “ though there you are, and you may lay to it. I’m 
all for argyment ; I never seen good come out o’ threatening. 
If you like the service, well, you’ll jine ; and if you don’t, Jim, 
why, you’re free to answer no — free and welcome, shipmate ; 
and if fairer can be said by mortal seaman, shiver my sides ! ” 

“ Am I to answer, then 1 ” I asked, with a very tremulous 
voice. Through all this sneering talk, I was made to feel the 
threat of death that overhung me, and my cheeks burned and 
my heart beat painfully in my breast. 

“ Lad,” said Silver, “ no one’s a-pressing of you. Take your 
bearings. None of us won’t hurry you, mate; time goes so 
pleasant in your company, you see.” 

“ Well,” says I, growing a bit bolder, “ if I’m to choose, I 
declare I have a right to know what’s what, and why you’re 
here, and where my friends are.” 

“ Wot’s wot ? ” repeated one of the buccaneers, in a deep 
growl. “ Ah, he’d be a lucky one as knowed that ! ” 

“ You’ll, perhaps, batten down your hatches till you’re spoke, 
my friend,” cried Silver truculently to this speaker. And then, 
in his first gracious tones, he replied to me : “ Yesterday morn- 
ing, Mr. Hawkins,” said he, “ in the dog-watch, 0 down came 
Dr. Livesey with a flag of truce. Says he, ‘ Cap’n Silver, you’re 
sold out. Ship’s gone.’ Well, maybe we’d been taking a glass, 
and a song to help it round. I won’t say no. Leastways none 
of us had looked out. We looked out, and, by thunder ! the 
old ship was gone. I never seen a pack o’ fools look fishier ; 
and you may lay to that, if I tells you that looked the fishiest. 
‘ Well,’ says the doctor, ‘ let’s bargain.’ We bargained, him 
and I, and here we are : stores, brandy, block-house, the firewood 
you was thoughtful enough to cut, and, in a manner of speaking, 


174 


TREASURE ISLAND 


the whole blessed boat, from cross-trees to kelson . 0 As for them, 
they’ve tramped ; I don’t know where’s they are.” 

He drew again quietly at his pipe. 

“ And lest you should take it into that head of yours,” he 
went on, “ that you was included in the treaty, here’s the last 
word that was said: ‘How many are you,’ says I, ‘to leave?’ 

‘ Four,’ says he — ‘ four, and one of us wounded. As for that 
boy, I don’t know where he is, confound him,’ says he, * nor I 
don’t much care. We’re about sick of him.’ These was his 
words.” 

“ Is that all ? ” I asked. 

“ Well, it’s all that you’re to hear, my son,” returned Silver. 

“ And now I am to choose ? ” 

“ And now you are to choose, and you may lay to that,” said 
Silver. 

“ Well,” said I, “ I’m not such a fool but I know pretty well 
what I have to look for. Let the worst come to the wmrst, it’s 
little I care. I’ve seen too many die since I fell in with you. 
But there’s a thing or two I have to tell you,” I said, and 
by this time I was quite excited; “and the first is this: 
here you are, in a bad way : ship lost, treasure lost, men lost ; 
your whole business gone to wreck ; and if you want to know 
who did it — • it was I ! I was in the apple barrel the night we 
sighted land, and I heard you, John, and you, Dick Johnson, 
and Hands, who is now at the bottom of the sea, and told every 
word you said before the hour was out. And as for the schooner, 
it was I who cut her cable, and it was I that killed the men 
you had aboard of her, and it was I who brought her where 
you’ll never see her more, not one of you. The laugh’s on my 
side ; I’ve had the top of this business from the first ; I no 
more fear you than I fear a fly. Kill me, if you please, or spare 
me. But one thing I’ll say, and no more ; if you spare me, by- 
gones are bygones, and when you fellows are in court for piracy, 
I’ll save you all I can. It is for you to choose. Kill another 


IN THE ENEMY’S CAMP 


175 


and do yourselves no good, or spare me and keep a witness to 
save you from the gallows.” 

I stopped, for, I tell you, I was out of breath, and, to my 
wonder, not a man of them moved, but all sat staring at me 
like as many sheep. And while they were still staring, I broke 
out again : — 

“ And now, Mr. Silver,” I said, “ I believe you’re the best 
man here, and if things go the worst, I’ll take it kind of you to 
let the doctor know the way I took it.” 

“ 111 bear it in mind,” said Silver, with an accent so curious 
that I could not, for the life of me, decide whether he were 
laughing at my request, or had been favourably affected by my 
courage. 

“ 111 put one to that,” cried the old mahogany-faced seaman 
— Morgan by name — whom I had seen in Long John’s public- 
house upon the quays of Bristol. “ It was him that knowed 
Black Dog.” 

“ Well, and see here,” added the sea-cook. “ 111 put another 
again to that, by thunder ! for it was this same boy that faked 
the chart from Billy Bones. First and last, we’ve split upon 
Jim Hawkins ! ” 

“ Then here goes ! ” said Morgan, with an oath. 

And he sprang up, drawing his knife as if he had been 
twenty. 

“ Avast there ! ” cried Silver. “ Who are you, Tom Morgan 1 
Maybe you thought you was cap’n here, perhaps. By the 
powers, but I’ll teach you better ! Cross me, and you’ll go 
where many a good man’s gone before you, first and last, these 
thirty year back — some to the yard-arm, shiver my timbers ! 
and some by the board, and ali to feed the fishes. There’s 
never a man looked me between the eyes and seen a good 
day a’terwards, Tom Morgan, you may lay to that.” 

Morgan paused ; but a hoarse murmur rose from the others. 

“ Tom’s right,” said one. 


176 


TREASURE ISLAND 


“ I stood hazing long enough from one,” added another. 
“I’ll be hanged if I’ll be hazed by you, John Silver.” 

“ Did any of you gentlemen want to have it out with me ? ” 
roared Silver, bending far forward from his position on the keg, 
with his pipe still glowing in his right hand. “ Put a name on 
what you’re at ; you ain’t dumb, I reckon. Him that wants 
shall get it. Have I lived this many years, and a son of a 
rum puncheon cock his hat athwart my hawse 0 at the latter 
end of it ? You know the way ; you’re all gentlemen o’ fortune, 
by your account. Well, I’m ready. Take a cutlass, him that 
dares, and I’ll see the colour of his inside, crutch and all, before 
that pipe’s empty.” 

Not a man stirred ; not a man answered. 

“ That’s your sort, is it 1 ” he added, returning his pipe to his 
mouth. “ Well, you’re a gay lot to look at, anyway. Not 
much worth to fight, you ain’t. P’r’aps you can understand 
King George’s English. I’m cap’n here by ’lection. I’m cap’n 
here because I’m the best man by a long sea-mile. You wrnn’t 
fight, as gentlemen o’ fortune should ; then, by thunder, you’ll 
obey, and you may lay to it ! I like that boy, now ; I never 
seen a belter boy than that. He’s more a man than any pair 
of rats of you in this here house, and what I say is this 
let me see him that’ll lay a hand on him — that’s what I say, 
and you may lay to it.” 

There was a long pause after this. I stood straight up 
against the wall, my heart still going like a sledge-hammer, but 
with a ray of hope now shining in my bosom. Silver leant 
back against the wall, his arms crossed, his pipe in the corner 
of his mouth, as calm as though he had been in church ; yet 
his eye kept wandering furtively, and he kept the tail of it on 
his unruly followers. They, on their part, drew gradually to- 
gether towards the far end of the block-house, and the low hiss 
of their whispering sounded in my ear continuously, like a stream. 
One after another they would look up, and the red light of the 


IN THE ENEMY’S CAMP 


177 


torch would fall for a second on their nervous faces ; but it was 
not towards me, it was towards Silver that they turned their eyes. 

“ You seem to have a lot to say,” remarked Silver, spitting 
far into the air. “ Pipe up and let me hear it, or lay to.” 

“Ax your pardon, sir,” returned one of the men, “you’re 
pretty free with some of the rules ; maybe you’ll kindly keep 
an eye upon the rest. This crew’s dissatisfied ; this crew don’t 
vally bullying a marlinspike ; this crew has its rights like other 
crews, I’ll make so free as that ; and by your own rules, I take 
it we can talk together. I ax your pardon, sir, acknowledging 
you to be capting at this present ; but I claim my right, and 
steps outside for a council.” 

And with an elaborate sea-salute, this fellow, a long, ill-look- 
ing, yellow-eyed man of five-and-thirty, stepped coolly towards 
the door and disappeared out of the house. One after another, 
the rest followed his example ; each making a salute as he 
passed ; each adding some apology. “ According to rules,” said 
one. “Fo’c’s’le council,” said Morgan. And so with one re- 
mark or another, all marched out, and left Silver and me alone 
with the torch. 

The sea-cook instantly removed his pipe. 

“Now, look you here, Jim Hawkins,” he said, in a steady 
whisper, that was no more than audible, “ you’re within half 
a plank of death, and, what’s a long sight worse, of torture. 
They’re going to throw me off. But, you mark, I stand by you 
through thick and thin. I didn’t mean to ; no, not till you 
spoke up, I ’was about desperate to lose that much blunt, 
and be hanged into the bargain. But I see you was the right 
sort. Isays to myself: You stand by Hawkins, John, and 
Hawkins ’ll stand by you. You’re his last card, and, by the 
living thunder, John, he’s yours ! Back to back, says I. You 
save your witness, and he’ll save your neck ! ” 

I began dimly to understand. 

“ You mean all’s lost ? ” I asked. 

N 


178 


TREASURE ISLAND 


“Ay, by gum, I do ! ” he answered. “ Ship gone, neck gone , 

— that’s the size of it. Once I looked into that bay, Jim 
Hawkins, and seen no schooner — well, I’m tough, but I gave j 
out. As for that lot and their council, mark me, they’re out- j 
right fools and cowards. I’ll save your life — if so be as I 
can — from them. But, see here, Jim* — tit for tat — you save ! 
Long John from swinging.” 

I was bewildered ; it seemed a thing so hopeless he was asking 

— he, the old buccaneer, the ringleader throughout. 

“ What I can do, that I’ll do,” I said. 

“ It’s a bargain ! ” cried Long John. “ You speak up plucky, 
and, by thunder ! I’ve a chance.” 

He hobbled to the torch, where it stood propped among the 
firewood, and* took a fresh light to his pipe. 

“ Understand me, Jim,” he said, returning. “ I’ve a head on 
my shoulders, I have. I’m on squire’s side now. I know you’ve 
got that ship safe somewheres. How you done it, I don’t know, 
but safe it is. I guess Hands and O’Brien turned soft. I never 
much believed in neither of them. Now you mark me. I ask . 
no questions, nor I won’t let others. I know when a game’s 
up, I do ; and I know a lad that’s staunch. Ah, you that’s * 
young — you and me might have done a power of good together ! ” j 

He drew some cognac from the cask into a tin cannikin. 

“Will you taste, messmate?” he asked; and when I had 
refused : “ Well, I’ll take a drain myself, Jim,” said he. “ I 
need a caulker, for there’s trouble on hand. And, talking o’ 
trouble, why did that doctor give me the chart, Jim? ” 

My face expressed a wonder so unaffected that he saw the 
needlessness of further questions. 

“ Ah, well, he did, though,” said he. “ And there’s something 
under that, no doubt — something, surely, under that, Jim — 
bad or good.” 

And he took another swallow of the brandy, shaking his great I 
fair head like a man who looks forward to the worst. 


CHAPTER XXIX 


THE BLACK SPOT AGAIN 

The council of the buccaneers had lasted some time when 
; one of them re-entered the house, and with a repetition of the 
same salute, which had in my eyes an ironical air, begged for a 
moment’s loan of the torch. Silver briefly agreed ; and this 
emissary retired again, leaving us together in the dark. 

“ There’s a breeze coming, Jim,” said Silver, who had, by this 
| time, adopted quite a friendly and familiar tone. 

I turned to the loophole nearest me and looked out. The 
i embers of the great fire had so far burned themselves out, and 
: now glowed so low and duskily, that I understood why these 
conspirators desired a torch. About half way down the slope 
to the stockade, they were collected in a group ; one held the 
light ; another was on his knees in their midst, and I saw the 
blade of an open knife shine in his hand with varying colours, in 
the moon and torchlight. The rest were all somewhat stooping, 
as through watching the manoeuvres of this last. I could just 
make out that he had a book as well as a knife in his hand ; and was 
still wondering how anything so incongruous had come in their 
possession, when the kneeling figure rose once more to his feet, 
and the whole party began to move together towards the house. 

“ Here they come,” said I ; and I returned to my former 
position, for it seemed beneath my dignity that they should find 
me watching them. 

“Well, let ’em come, lad — let ’em come,” said Silver, 
cheerily. “ I’ve still a shot in my locker.” 

179 


180 


TREASURE ISLAND 


The door opened, and the five men, standing huddled together 
just inside, pushed one of their number forward. In any other 
circumstances it would have been comical to see his slow advance, 
hesitating as he set down each foot, but holding his closed right 
hand in front of him. 

“ Step up, lad,” cried Silver. “ I won’t eat you. Hand it 
over, lubber. I know the rules, I do; I won’t hurt a depytation.” 

Thus encouraged, the buccaneer stepped forth more briskly, 
and having passed something to Silver, from hand to hand, 
slipped yet more smartly back again to his companions. 

The sea-cook looked at what had been given him. 

“ The black spot ! I thought so,” he observed. 

“ Where might you have got the paper 1 Why, hillo ! look 
here, now : this ain’t lucky ! You’ve gone and cut this out of a 
Bible. What fool’s cut a Bible ? ” 

“ Ah, there ! ” said Morgan — “ there ! Wot did I say ? No 
good’ll come o’ that, I said.” 

“Well, you’ve about fixed it now, among you,” continued 
Silver. “ You’ll all swing now, I reckon. What soft-headed 
lubber had a Bible 1 ” 

“ It was Dick,” said one. 

“ Dick, was it ? Then Dick can get to prayers,” said Silver. 
“ He’s seen his slice of luck, has Dick, and you may lay to that.” 

But here the long man with the yellow eyes struck in. 

“Belay that talk, 0 John Silver,” he said. “This crew has 
tipped you the black spot in full council, as in dooty bound ; 
just you turn it over, as in dooty bound, and see what’s wrote 
there. Then you can talk.” 

“Thanky, George,” replied the sea-cook. “You always was 
brisk for business, and has the rules by heart, George, as I’m 
pleased to see. Well, what is it, anyway? Ah! ‘Deposed’ 
— that’s it, is it ? Very pretty wrote, to be sure; like print, I 
swear. Your hand o’ write, George ? Why, you was getting, 
quite a leadin’ man in this here crew. You’ll be cap’ll next, I 


THE BLACK SPOT AGAIN 


181 


shouldn’t wonder. Just oblige me with that torch again, will 
you ? this pipe don’t draw.” 

“Come, now,” said George, “you don’t fool this crew no 
more. You’re a funny man, by your account ; but you’re over 
now, and you’ll maybe step down off that barrel, and help vote.” 

“I thought you said you knowed the rules,” returned Silver, 
contemptuously. “ Leastways, if you don’t, I do ; and I wait 
| here — and I’m still your cap’n, mind — till you outs with your 
grievances, and I reply ; in the meantime, your black spot ain’t 
worth a biscuit. After that, we’ll see.” 

“ Oh,” replied George, “you don’t be under no kind of appre- 
hension ; we're all square, we are. First, you’ve made a hash 
of this cruise — you’ll be a bold man to say no to that. Second, 
you let the enemy out o’ this here trap for nothing. Why did 
they want out ? I dunno ; but it’s pretty plain they wanted it. 
Third, you wouldn’t let us go at them upon the march. Oh, we 
see through you, John Silver ; you want to play booty, that’s 
what’s wrong with you. And then, fourth, there’s this here 
boy.” 

“ Is that all ? ” asked Silver, quietly. 

“ Enough, too,” retorted George. “ We’ll all swing and sun- 
dry for your bungling.” 

“ Well, now, look here, I’ll answer these four p’ints ; one after 
another I’ll answer ’em. I made a hash o’ this cruise, did I ? 
Well, now, you all know what I wanted : and you all know, if 
that had been done, that we’d ’a’ been aboard the Hispaniola 
this night as ever was, every man of us alive, and fit, and full of 
good plum-duff, and the treasure in the hold of her, by thunder ! 
Well, who crossed me? Who forced my hand, as was the law- 
ful cap’n ? Who tipped me the black spot the day we landed, 
and began this dance ? Ah, it’s a fine dance — I’m with you 
there — and looks mighty like a hornpipe in a rope’s end at 
Execution Dock by London town, it does. But who done it ? 
Why, it was Anderson, and Hands, and you, George Merry ! 


182 


TREASURE ISLAND 


And you’re the last above board of that same meddling crew ; 
and you have the Davy Jones’s insolence to up and stand for 
cap’n over me — you, that sank the lot of us ! By the powers ! 
but this tops the stiffest yarn to nothing.” 

Silver paused, and I could see by the faces of George and his 
late comrades that these words had not been said in vain. 

“ That’s for number one,” cried the accused, wiping the sweat 
from his brow, for he had been talking with a vehemence that 
shook the house. “ Why, I give you my word, I’m sick to speak 
to you. You’ve neither sense nor memory, and I leave it to 
fancy where your mothers was that let you come to sea. Sea ! 
Gentlemen o’ fortune ! I reckon tailors is your trade.” 

“Go on, John,” said Morgan. “Speak up to the others.” 

“Ah, the others!” returned John. “They’re a nice lot, 
ain’t they 1 ? You say this cruise is bungled. Ah ! by gum, if 
you could understand how bad it’s bungled, you would see ! 
We’re that near the gibbet that my neck’s stiff with thinking 
on it. You’ve seen ’em, maybe, hanged in chains, birds about 
’em, seamen p’inting ’em out as they go down with the tide. 
‘ Who’s that ? ’ says one. ‘ That ! Why, that’s John Silver. I 
knowed him well,’ says another. And you can hear the chains 
a-j angle as you go about and reach for the other, buoy. Now, 
that’s about where we are, every mother’s son of us, thanks to 
him, and Hands, and Anderson, and other ruination fools of 
you. And if you want to know about number four, and that 
boy, why, shiver my timbers ! isn’t he a hostage ? Are we 
a-going to waste a hostage ? No, not us ; he might be our last 
chance, and I shouldn’t wonder. Kill that boy ? not me, mates ! 
And number three? Ah, well, there’s a deal to say to number 
three. Maybe you don’t count it nothing to have a real college 
doctor come to see you every day — you, John, with your head 
broke — or you, George Merry, that had the ague shakes upon 
you not six hours agone, and has your eyes the colour of lemon 
peel to this same moment on the clock? And maybe, perhaps, 


THE BLACK SPOT AGAIN 


183 


I you didn’t know there was a consort coming, either ? But there is ; 
I and not so long till then ; and we’ll see who’ll be glad to have a 
hostage when it comes to that. And as for number two, and 
why I made a bargain — well, you came crawling on your knees 
to me to make it — on your knees you came, you was that down- 
hearted — and you’d have starved, too, if I hadn’t — but that’s 
i a trifle ! you look there — that’s why ! ” 

And he cast down upon the floor a paper that I instantly 
recognised — none other than the chart on yellow paper, with 
the three red crosses, that I had found in the oilcloth at the 
bottom of the captain’s chest. Why the doctor had given it to 
i him was more than I could fancy. 

But if it were inexplicable to me, the appearance of the chart 
was incredible to the surviving mutineers. They leaped upon 
it like cats upon a mouse. It went from hand to hand, one 
tearing it from another ; and by the oaths and the cries and 
the childish laughter with which they accompanied their exami- 
nation, you would have thought, not only they were fingering 
the very gold, but were at sea with it, besides, in safety. 

“Yes,” said one, “that’s Flint sure enough. J. F., and a 
score below, with a clove-hitch to it ; so he done ever.” 

“Mighty pretty,” said George. “But how are we to get 
away with it, and us no ship ? ” 

Silver suddenly sprang up, and supporting himself with a 
hand against the wall : “ Now I give you warning, George,” he 
cried. “ One more word of your sauce, and I’ll call you down 
and fight you. How? Why, do I know? You had ought to 
tell me that — you and the rest, that lost me my schooner, with 
your interference, burn you ! But not you, you can’t ; you 
hain’t got the invention of a cockroach. But civil you can 
speak, and shall, George Merry, you may lay to that.” 

- “That’s fair enow,” said the old man Morgan. 

“Fair! I reckon so,” said the sea-cook. “You lost the 
ship; I found the treasure. Who’s the better man at that? 


184 


TREASURE ISLAND 


And now I resign, by thunder ! Elect whom you please to be v 
your cap’n now ; I’m done with it.” 

“ Silver ! ” they cried. “ Barbecue for ever ! Barbecue for | 
cap’n ! ” 

“ So that’s the toon, is it 1 ” cried the cook. “ George, I 
reckon you’ll have to wait another turn, friend ; and lucky for 
you as I’m not a revengeful man. But that was never my 
way. And now, shipmates, this black spot? ’Tain’t much 
good now, is it ? Dick’s crossed his luck and spoiled his Bible, 
and that’s about all.” 

“ It’ll do to kiss the book on still, won’t it ? ” growled Dick, 
who was evidently uneasy at the curse he had brought upon 
himself. 

“ A Bible with a bit cut out ! ” returned Silver, derisively. 

“ Not it. It don’t bind no more’n a ballad-book.” 

“ Don’t it, though ?” cried Dick, with a sort of joy. “ Well, 

I reckon that’s worth having, too.” 

“Here, Jim — here’s a cur’osity for you,” said Silver; and 
he tossed me the paper. 

It was a round about the size of a crown piece. One side 
was blank, for it had been the last leaf ; the other contained a 
verse or two of Revelation — these words among the rest, 
which struck sharply home upon my mind : “ Without are I 

dogs and murderers.” The printed side had been blackened a 
with wood ash, which already began to come off and soil my a 
fingers; on the blank side had been written with the same ■ 
material the one word~“ Depposed.” I have that curiosity be- 1 
side me at this moment ; but not a trace of writing now a 
remains beyond a single scratch, such as a man might make a 
with his thumb-nail. 

That was the end of the night’s business. Soon after, with i 
a drink all round, we lay down to sleep, and the outside of 1 
Silver’s vengeance was to put George Merry up for sentinel, 1 
and threaten him with death if he should prove unfaithful. 


THE BLACK SPOT AGAIN 


185 

It was long ere I could close an eye, and Heaven knows I 
had matter enough for thought in the man whom I had slain 
that afternoon, in my own most perilous position, and, above 
all, in the remarkable game that I saw Silver now engaged 
upon — keeping the mutineers together with one hand, and 
grasping, with the other, after every means, possible and im- 
possible, to make his peace and save his miserable life. He 
himself slept peacefully, and snored aloud ; yet my heart was 
sore for him, wicked as he was, to think on the dark perils 
that environed, and the shameful gibbet that awaited him. 




CHAPTER XXX 


ON PAROLE 

I was wakened — indeed, we were all wakened, for I could 
see even the sentinel shake himself together from where he had 
fallen against the door-post — by a clear, hearty voice hailing 
us from the margin of the wood : — 

“ Block-house, ahoy ! ” it cried. “ Here’s the doctor.” 

And the doctor it was. . Although I was glad to hear the 
sound, yet my gladness was not without admixture. I remem- 
bered with confusion my insubordinate and stealthy conduct ; 
and when I saw where • it had brought me — among what 
companions and surrounded by what dangers — I felt ashamed 
to look him in the face. 

He must have risen in the dark, for the day had hardly 
come ; and when I ran to a loophole and looked out, I saw 
him standing, like Silver once before, up to the mid-leg in 
creeping vapour. 

“ You, doctor ! Top o’ the morning to you, sir ! ” cried Silver, 
broad awake and beaming with good-nature in a moment. 
“ Bright and early, to be sure ; and it’s the early bird, as the 
saying goes, that gets the rations. George, shake up your tim- 
bers, son, and help Dr. Livesey over the ship’s side. All a-doin’ 
well, your patients was — all well and merry.” 

So he pattered on, standing on the hill-top, with his crutch 
under his elbow, and one hand upon the side of the log-house 
— quite the old John in voice, manner, and expression. 

“ We’ve quite a surprise for you, too, sir,” he continued. 
“ We’ve a little stranger here — he ! he ! A noo boarder and 

186 


ON PAROLE 


187 


lodger, sir, and looking fit and taut as a fiddle ; slep’ like a 
supercargo, he did, right alongside of John — stem to stem we 
was, all night.” 

Dr. Livesey was by this time across the stockade and pretty near 
the cook ; and I could hear the alteration in his voice as he said — 

“Not Jim?” 

“The very same Jim as ever was,” says Silver. 

The doctor stopped outright, although he did not speak, and 
it was some seconds before he seemed able to move on. 

“ Well, well,” he said, at last, “ duty first and pleasure 
afterwards, as you might have said yourself, Silver. Let us 
overhaul these patients of yours.” 

A moment afterwards he had entered the block-house, and 
with one grim nod to me, proceeded with his work among the 
sick. He seemed under no apprehension, though he must have 
known that his life, among these treacherous demons, depended 
on a hair ; and he rattled on tp his patients as if he were pay- 
ing an ordinary professional visit in a quiet English family. 
His manner, I suppose, reacted on the men ; for they behaved 
to him as if nothing had occurred — as if he was still ship’s 
doctor, and they still faithful hands before the mast. 

“You’re doing well, my friend,” he said to the fellow with 
the bandaged head, “ and if ever any person had a close shave, 
it was you ; your head must be as hard as iron. Well, George, 
how goes it 1 You’re a pretty colour, certainly ; why, your liver, 
man, is upside dow r n. Did you take that medicine ? Did he 
take that medicine, men ? ” 

“ Ay, ay, sir, he took it, sure enough,” returned Morgan. 

“ Because, you see, since I am mutineers’ doctor, or prison 
doctor, as I prefer to call it,” says Dr. Livesey, in his pleasant- 
est way, “ I make it a point of honour not to lose a man for 
King George (God bless him !) and the gallows.” 

The rogues looked at each other, but swallowed the home- 
thrust in silence. 


188 


TREASURE ISLAND 


“ Dick don’t feel well, sir,” said one. 

“ Don’t he ? ” replied the doctor. “ Well, step up here, Dick, 
and let me see your tongue. No, I should he surprised if he did ! 
the man’s tongue is fit to frighten the French. Another fever.”* 

“ Ah, there,” said Morgan, “ that corned of sp’iling Bibles.” } 

“That corned — as you call it — of being arrant asses,”- 
retorted the doctor, “and not having sense enough to know 
honest air from poison, and the dry land from a vile, pestiferous 
slough. I think it most probable — though, of course, it’s only 
an opinion — that you’ll all have the deuce to pay before you 
get that malaria out of your systems. Camp in a bog, would 
you 1 Silver, I’m surprised at you. You’re less of a fool than 
many, take you all around ; but you don’t appear to me to have 
the rudiments of a notion of the rules of health.” 

“ Well,” he added, after he had dosed them round, and they 
had taken his prescriptions, with really laughable humility, more 
like chkrity school-children than blood-guilty mutineers and 
pirates — “ well, that’s done for to-day. And now I should 
wish to have a talk with that boy, please.” 

And he nodded his head in my direction carelessly. 

George Merry was at the door, spitting and spluttering over 
some bad-tasted medicine ; but at the first word of the doctor’s 
proposal he swung round with a deep flush, and cried “No!”, 
and swore. 

Silver struck the barrel with his open hand. 

“ Si-lence ! ” he roared, and looked about him positively like 
a lion. “ Doctor,” he went on, in his usual tones, “ I was 
a-thinking of that, knowing as how you had a fancy for the 
boy. We’re all humbly grateful for your kindness, and, as you 
see, puts faith in you, and takes the drugs down like that much 
grog. And I take it, I’ve found a way as’ll suit all. Hawkins, 
will you give me your word of honour as a young gentleman — 
for a young gentleman you are, although poor born — your word 
of honour not to slip your cable 0 1 ” 


ON PAROLE 


189 


I readily gave the pledge required. 

“Then, doctor,” said Silver, “you just step outside o’ that 
stockade, and once you’re there, I’ll bring the boy down on the 
inside, and I reckon you can yarn through the spars. G-ood- 
day to you, sir, and all our dooties to the squire and Cap’n 
Smollett.” 

The explosion of disapproval, which nothing but Silver’s 
black looks had restrained, broke out immediately the doctor 
had left the house. Silver was roundly accused of playing 
double — of -trying to make a separate peace for himself — of 
sacrificing the interests of his accomplices and victims ; and, in 
one word, of the identical, exact thing that he was doing. It 
seemed to me so obvious, in this case, that I could not imagine 
how he was to turn their anger. But he was twice the man 
the rest were; and his last night’s victory had given him a 
huge preponderance on their minds. He called them all the 
fools and dolts you can imagine, said it was necessary I should 
talk to the doctor, fluttered the chart in their faces, asked them 
if they could afford to break the treaty the very day they were 
bound a-treasure-hunting. 

“ Ho, by thunder ! ” he cried, “ it’s us 'must break the treaty 
when the time comes ; and till then I’ll gammon 0 that doctor, 
if I have to ile his boots with brandy.” 

And then he bade them get the fire lit, and stalked out 
upon his crutch, with his hand on my shoulder, leaving them 
in a disarray, and silenced by his volubility rather than con- 
vinced. 

“ Slow, lad, slow,” he said. “ They might round upon us in 
a twinkle of an eye, if we was seen to hurry.” 

Very deliberately, then, did we advance across the sand to where 
the doctor awaited us on the other side of the stockade, and as 
soon as we were within easy speaking distance, Silver stopped. 

“You’ll make a note of this here also, doctor,” says he, “ and 
the boy’ll tell you how I saved his life, and were deposed for it, 


190 


TREASURE ISLAND 


too, and you may lay to that. Doctor, when a man’s steering 
as near the wind as me — playing chuck-farthing with the last 
breath in his body, like — you wouldn’t think it too much, 
mayhap, to give him one good word 1 You’ll please bear in 
mind it’s not my life only now — it’s that boy’s into the bar- 
gain ; and you’ll speak me fair, doctor, and give me a bit o’ hope 
to go on, for the sake of mercy.” 

Silver was a changed man, once he was out there and had 
his back to his friends and the block-house ; his cheeks seemed 
to have fallen in, his voice trembled ; never was a soul more 
dead in earnest. 

“ Why, John, you’re not afraid 1 ” asked Dr. Livesey. 

“ Doctor, I’m no coward ; no, not I — not so much ! ” and 
he snapped his fingers. “ If I was I wouldn’t say it. But I’ll 
own up fairly, I’ve the shakes upon me for the gallows. You’re 
a good man and a true ; I never seen a better man ! And you’ll 
not forget what I done good, not any more than you’ll forget 
the bad, I know. And I step aside — see here — and leave 
you and Jim alone. And you’ll put that down for me, too, for 
it’s a long stretch, is that ! ” 

So saying, he stepped back a little way, till he was out of 
earshot, and there sat down upon a tree-stump and began to 
whistle ; spinning round now and again upon his seat so as to 
command a sight, sometimes of me and the doctor, and some- 
times of his unruly ruffians as they went to and fro in the 
sand, between the fire — which they were busy rekindling — 
and the house, from which they brought forth pork and bread 
to make the breakfast. 

“ So, Jim,” said the doctor sadly, “ here you are. As you 
have brewed, so shall you drink, my boy. Heaven knows, I 
cannot find it in my heart to blame you ; but this much I will 
say, be it kind or unkind : when Captain Smollett was well, 
you dared not have gone off ; and when he was ill, and couldn’t 
help it, by George, it was downright cowardly ! ” 


ON PAROLE 


191 


I will own that I here began to weep. “Doctor / 5 I said, 
“ you might spare me. I have blamed myself enough ; my 
life’s forfeit anyway, and I should have been dead by now, if 
Silver hadn’t stood for me ; and doctor, believe this, I can die 
— and I daresay I deserve it — but what I fear is torture. If 
they come to torture me — ” 

“ Jim, ’’the doctor interrupted, and his voice was quite changed, 
“Jim, I can’t have this. Whip over, and we’ll run for it.” 

“Doctor,” said I, “I passed my word.” 

“ I know, I know,” he cried. “ We can’t help that, Jim, now. 
I’ll take it on my shoulders, holus bolus , 0 blame and shame, my 
boy ; but stay here, I cannot let you. Jump ! One jump, and 
you’re out, and we’ll run for it like antelopes.” 

“No,” I replied, “you know right well you wouldn’t do the 
thing yourself ; neither you, nor squire, nor captain ; and no 
more will I. Silver trusted me ; I passed my word, and back 
I go. But, doctor, you did not let me finish. If they come to 
torture me, I might let slip a word of where the ship is ; for 
I got the ship, part by luck and part by risking, and she lies in 
North Inlet, on the southern beach, and just below high water. 
At half tide she must be high and dry.” 

“ The ship ! ” exclaimed the doctor. 

Rapidly I described to him my adventures, and he heard me 
out in silence. 

“ There is a kind of fate in this,” he observed, when I had 
done. “ Every step, it’s you that saves our lives ; and do you 
suppose by any chance that we are going to let you lose yours ? 
That would be a poor return, my boy. You found out the plot ; 
you found Ben Gunn — the best deed that ever you did, or will 
do, though you live to ninety. Oh, by Jupiter, and talking of 
Ben Gunn ! why, this is the mischief in person. Silver ! ” he 
cried, “ Silver ! — I’ll give you a piece of advice,” he continued, 
as the cook drew near again ; “ don’t you be in any great hurry 
after that treasure.” 


192 


TREASURE ISLAND 


“ Why, sir, I do my possible, which that ain’t,” said Silver. 
“ I can only, asking your pardon, save my life and the boy’s by 
seeking for that treasure ; and you may lay to that.” 

“ Well, Silver,” replied the doctor, “ if that is so, I’ll go one 
step further : look out for squalls when you find it.” 

“Sir,” said Silver, “as between man and man, that’s too 
much and too little. What you’re after, why you left the 
block-house, why you given me that there chart, I don’t know, 
now, do 1 1 and yet I done your bidding with my eyes shut and 
never a word of hope ! But no, this here’s too much. If you 
won’t tell me what you mean plain out, just say so, and I’ll 
leave the helm.” 

“ No,” said the doctor, musingly, “ I’ve no right to say more ; 
it’s not my secret, you see, Silver, or, I give you my word, I’d 
tell it you. But I’ll go as far with you as I dare go, and a 
step beyond ; for I’ll have my wig sorted by the captain or I’m 
mistaken ! And, first, I’ll give you a bit of hope : Silver, if we 
both get alive out of this wolf-trap, I’ll do my best to save you, 
short of perjury.” 

Silver’s face was radiant. “You couldn’t say more, I’m sure, 
sir, not if you was my mother,” he cried. 

“Well, that’s my first concession,” added the doctor. “My 
second is a piece of advice : Keep the boy close beside you, and 
when you need help, halloo. I’m off to seek it for you, and that 
itself will show you if I speak at random. Good-bye, Jim.” 

And Dr. Livesey shook hands with me through the stockade, 
nodded to Silver, and set off at a brisk pace into the wood. 


CHAPTER XXXI 


THE TREASURE HUNT FLINT’S POINTER 0 

“Jim,” said Silver, when we were alone, “if I saved your 
life, you saved mine ; and I’ll not forget it. I seen the doctor 
waving you to run for it — with the tail of my eye, I did ; and 
I seen you say no, as plain as hearing. Jim, that’s one to you. 
This is the first glint of hope I had since the attack failed, and 
I owe it you. And now, Jim, we’re to go in for this here 
treasure-hunting, with sealed orders, too, and I don’t like it; 
and you and me must stick close, back to back like, and we’ll 
save our necks in spite o’ fate and fortune.” 

Just then a man hailed us from the fire that breakfast was 
ready, and we were soon seated here and there about the sand 
over biscuit and fried junk. They had lit a fire fit to roast an 
ox ; and it was now grown so hot that they could only approach 
it from the windward, and even there not without precaution. 
In the same wasteful spirit, they had cooked, I suppose, three 
times more than we could eat ; and one of them, with an empty 
laugh, threw what was left into the fire, which blazed and roared 
again over this unusual fuel. I never in my life saw men so care- 
less of the morrow ; hand to mouth is the only word that can 
describe their way of doing ; and what with wasted food and 
sleeping sentries, though they were bold enough for a brush and 
be done with it, I could see their entire unfitness for anything 
like a prolonged campaign. 

Even Silver, eating away, with Captain Flint upon his 
shoulder, had not a word of blame for their recklessness. And 

193 


o 


194 


TREASURE ISLAND 


this the more surprised me, for I thought he had never shown 
himself so cunning as he did then. 

“ Ay, mates,” said he, “ it’s lucky you have Barbecue to 
think for you with this here head. I got what I wanted, I did. 
Sure enough, they have the ship. Where they have it, I don’t 
know yet ; but once we hit the treasure, we’ll have to jump 
about and find out. And then, mates, us that has the boats, I 
reckon, has the upper hand.” 

Thus he kept running on, with his mouth full of the hot 
bacon : thus he restored their hope and confidence, and, I more 
than suspect, repaired his own at the same time. 

“ As for hostage,” he continued, “that’s his last talk, I guess, 
with them he loves so dear. I’ve got my piece o’ news, and 
thanky to him for that ; but it’s over and done. I’ll take him 
in a line when we go treasure-hunting, for we’ll keep him like so 
much gold, in case of accidents, you mark, and in the meantime, 
once we got the ship and treasure both, and off to sea like jolly 
companions, why, then, we’ll talk Mr. Hawkins over, we 
will, and we’ll give him his share, to be sure, for all his 
kindness.” 

It was no wonder the men were in a good humour now. For 
my part, I was horribly cast down. Should the scheme he had 
now sketched prove feasible, Silver, already doubly a traitor, 
would not hesitate to adopt it. He had still a foot in either 
camp, and there was no doubt he would prefer wealth and free- 
dom with the pirates to a bare escape from hanging, which was 
the best he had to hope on our side. 

Nay, and even if things so fell out that he was forced to 
keep his faith with Dr. Livesey, even then what danger lay 
before us ! What a moment that would be when the suspicions 
of his followers turned to certainty, and he and I should have to 
fight for dear life — he, a cripple, and I, a boy — against five 
strong and active seamen ! 

Add to this double apprehension, the mystery that still hung 


THE TREASURE HUNT — FLINT’S POINTER 195 


over the behaviour of my friends ; their unexplained desertion 
of the stockade ; their inexplicable cession of the chart ; or, 
harder still to understand, the doctor’s last warning to Silver, 
“ Look out for squalls when you find it ” ; and you will readily 
believe how little taste I found in my breakfast, and with how 
uneasy a heart I set forth behind my captors on the quest for 
treasure. 

We made a curious figure, had anyone been there to see us; 
all in soiled sailor clothes, and all but me armed to the teeth. 
Silver had two guns slung about him — one before and one 
behind — besides the great cutlass at his waist, and a pistol in 
each pocket of his square-tailed coat. To complete his strange 
appearance, Captain Flint sat perched upon his shoulder and 
gabbling odds and ends of purposeless sea-talk. I had a line 
about my waist, and followed obediently after the sea-cook, 
who held the loose end of the rope, now in his free hand, now 
between his powerful teeth. For all the world, I was led like 
a dancing bear. 

The other men were variously burthened; some carrying picks 
and shovels — for that had been the very first necessary they 
I brought ashore from the Hispaniola — others laden with pork, 
bread, and brandy for the midday meal. All the stores, I 
| observed, came from our stock ; and I could see the truth of 
Silver’s words the night before. Had he not struck a bargain 
j with the doctor, he and his mutineers, deserted by the ship, 
must have been driven to subsist on clear water and the pro- 
ceeds of their hunting. Water would have been little to their 
taste ; a sailor is not usually a good shot ; and, besides all that, 
j when they were so short of eatables, it was not likely they would 
j be very flush of powder. 

Well, thus equipped, we all set out — even the fellow with 
! the broken head, who should certainly have kept in shadow — 
and straggled, one after another, to the beach, where the two 
gigs awaited us. Even these bore trace of the drunken folly of 


196 


TREASURE ISLAND 


the pirates, one in a broken thwart, and both in their muddied 
and unbaled condition. Both were to be carried along with us, 
for the sake of safety ; and so, with our numbers divided be- 
tween them, we set forth upon the bosom of the anchorage. 

As we pulled over, there was some discussion on the chart. 
The red cross was, of course, far too large to be a guide ; and 
the terms of the note on the back, as you will hear, admitted 
of some ambiguity. They ran, the reader may remember, 
thus : — 

“Tall tree, Spy-glass Shoulder, bearing a point to the N. of 
N.N.E. 

“ Skeleton Island E.S.E. and by E. 

“ Ten feet.” 

A tall tree was thus the principal mark. Now, right before 
us, the anchorage was bounded by a plateau from two to three 
hundred feet high, adjoining on the north the sloping southern 
shoulder of the Spy-glass, and rising again towards the south 
into the rough, cliffy eminence called the Mizzen-mast Hill. 
The top of the plateau was dotted thickly with pine trees of 
varying height. Every here and there, one of a different 
species rose forty or fifty feet clear above its neighbours, and 
which of these was the particular “ tall tree ” of Captain Flint 
could only be decided on the spot, and by the readings of the 
compass. 

Yet, although that was the case, every man on board the 
boats ,had picked a favourite of his own ere we were half way 
over, Long John alone shrugging his shoulders and bidding 
them wait till they were there. 

We pulled easily, by Silver’s directions, not to weary the 
hands prematurely; and, after quite a long passage, landed at 
the mouth of the second river — that which runs down a woody 
cleft of the Spy-glass. Thence, bending to our left, we began 
to ascend the slope towards the plateau. 


THE TREASURE HUNT — FLINT S POINTER 197 


At the first outset, heavy, miry ground and a matted, marish 
vegetation, greatly delayed our progress ; but by little and little 
the hill began to steepen and become stony under foot, and the 
wood to change its character and to grow in a more open order. 
It was, indeed, a most pleasant portion of the island that we 
were now approaching. A heavy-scented broom and many flow- 
ering shrubs had almost taken the place of grass. Thickets of 
green nutmeg trees were dotted here and there with the red 
columns and the broad shadow of the pines ; and the first 
mingled their spice with the aroma of the others. The air, 
besides, was fresh and stirring, and this, under the sheer sun- 
beams, was a wonderful refreshment to our senses. 

The party spread itself abroad, in a fan shape, shouting and 
leaping to and fro. About the centre, and a good way be- 
hind the rest, Silver and I followed — I tethered by my rope, 
he ploughing, with deep pants, among the sliding gravel. 
From time to time, indeed, I had to lend him a hand, or he 
must have missed his footing and fallen backward down the hill. 

We had thus proceeded for about half a mile, and were 
approaching the brow of the plateau, when the man upon the 
farthest left began to cry aloud, as if in terror. Shout after 
shout came from him, and the others began to run in his 
direction. 

“ He can’t ’a’ found the treasure,” said old Morgan, hurrying 
past us from the right, “ for that’s clean a-top.” 

Indeed, as we found when we also reached the spot, it was 
something very different. At the foot of a pretty big pii^e, and 
involved in a green creeper, which had even partly lifted some 
of the smaller bones, a human skeleton lay, with a few shreds 
of clothing, on the ground. I believe a chill struck for a moment 
to every heart. 

“He was a seaman,” said George Merry, who, bolder than 
the rest, had gone up close, and was examining the rags of 
clothing. “Leastways, this is good sea-cloth.” 


198 


TREASURE ISLAND 


“Ay, ay,” said Silver, “like enough; you wouldn’t look to 
find a bishop here, I reckon. But what sort of a way is that 
for bones to lie? ’Tain’t in natur’.” 

Indeed, on a second glance, it seemed impossible to fancy 
that the body was in a natural position. But for some disarray 
(the work, perhaps, of the birds that had fed upon him, or of 
the slow-growing creeper that had gradually enveloped his i 
remains) the man lay perfectly straight — his feet pointing in \ 
one direction, his hands, raised above his head like a diver’s, 1 
pointing directly in the opposite. 

“ I’ve taken a notion into my old numskull,” observed Silver. ] 

“ Here’s the compass ; there’s the tip-top p’int o’ Skeleton j 
Island, stickin’ out like a tooth. Just take a bearing, will >, 
you, along the line of them bones.” 

It was done. The body pointed straight in the direction of '■ 
the island, and the compass read duly E.S.E. and by E. ' 

“I thought so,” cried the cook; “this here is a p’inter. 1 
Bight up there is our line for the Pole Star and the jolly 1 
dollars. But, by thunder ! if it don’t make me cold inside to 4 
think of Flint. This is one of his jokes, and no mistake. Him l 
and these six was alone here ; he killed ’em, every man ; and j 
this one he hauled here and laid down by compass, shiver my 1 
timbers ! They’re long bones, and the hair’s been yellow. Ay, 1 
that would be Allardyce. You mind Allardyce, Tom Morgan ?” J 

“Ay, ay,” returned Morgan, “I mind him; he owed me * : j 
money, he did, and took my knife ashore with him.” 

“ Speaking of knives,” said another, “ why don’t we find his’n ] 
lying round ? Flint warn’t the man to pick a seaman’s pocket ; 1 
and the birds, I guess, would leave it be.” 

“ By the powers, and that’s true ! ” cried Silver. 

“There ain’t a thing left here,” said Merry, still feeling 1 
round among the bones, “ not a copper doit 0 nor a baccy box. } 
It don’t look nat’ral to me.” 

“No, by gum, it don’t,” agreed Silver ; “not nat’ral, nor 


THE TREASURE HUNT — FLINT’S POINTER 199 


not nice, says you. Great guns ! messmates, but if Flint was 
living, this would be a hot spot for you and me. Six they 
were, and six are we ; and bones is what they are now.” 

“ I saw him dead with these here deadlights,” said Morgan. 
“ Billy took me in. There he laid, with penny-pieces on his 
eyes.” 

“Dead — ay, sure enough he’s dead and gone below,” said 
the fellow with the bandage ; “ but if ever sperrit walked, it 
would be Flint’s. Dear heart, but he died bad, did Flint ! ” 

“ Ay, that he did,” observed another ; “ now he raged, and 
now he hollered for the rum, and now he sang. ‘ Fifteen Men ’ 
were his only song, mates ; and I tell you true, I never rightly 
liked to hear it since. It was main hot, and the windy w^as 
open, and I hear that old song cornin’ out as clear as clear — 
and the death-haul on the man already.” 

“Come, come,” said Silver, “stow this talk. He’s dead, 
and he don’t walk, that I know ; leastways, he won’t walk by 
day, and you may lay to that. Care killed a cat. Fetch ahead 
for the doubloons.” 

We started, certainly ; but in spite of the hot sun and the 
staring daylight, the pirates no longer ran separate and shout- 
ing through the wood, but kept side by side and spoke with 
bated breath. The terror of the dead buccaneer had fallen on 
their spirits. 


CHAPTER XXXII 


THE TREASURE HUNT — THE VOICE AMONG THE TREES 

Partly from the damping influence of this alarm, partly to 
rest Silver and the sick folk, the whole party sat down as soon 
as they had gained the brow of the ascent. 

The plateau being somewhat tilted towards the west, this 
spot on which we had paused commanded a wide prospect on 
either hand. Before us, over the tree-tops, we beheld the Cape 
of the Woods fringed with surf; behind, we not only looked 
down upon the anchorage and Skeleton Island, but saw — clear 
across the spit and the eastern lowlands — - a great field of open 
sea upon the east. Sheer above us rose the Spy-glass, here 
dotted with single pines, there black with precipices. There 
was no sound but that of the distant breakers, mounting from all 
round, and the chirp of countless insects in the brush. Not a 
man, not a sail upon the sea ; the very largeness of the view 
increased the. sense of solitude. 

Silver, as he sat, took certain bearings with his compass. 

“ There are three £ tall trees,’ ” said he, “ about in the right 
line from Skeleton Island. ‘ Spy-glass Shoulder,’ I take it, 
means that lower p’int there. It’s child’s play to find the stuff 
now. I’ve half a mind to dine first.” 

“I don’t feel sharp,” growled Morgan. “Thinkin’ o’ Flint 
— I think it were — as done me.” 

“ Ah, well, my son, you praise your stars he’s dead,” said 
Silver. 

“ He were an ugly devil,” cried a third pirate with a shud- 
der; “ that blue in the face, too ! ” 

200 


THE VOICE AMONG THE TREES 


201 


“ That was how the rum took him,” added Merry. “ Blue ! 
well, I reckon he was blue. That’s a true word.” 

Ever since they had found the skeleton and got upon this 
train of thought, they had spoken lower and lower, and they 
had almost got to whispering by now, so that the sound of their 
talk hardly interrupted the silence of the wood. All of a sud- 
den, out of the middle of the trees in front of us, a thin, high, 
trembling voice struck up the well-known air and words : — 

“Fifteen men on the dead man’s chest — 

Yo-ho-ho, and a bottle of rum! ” 

I never have seen men more dreadfully affected than the pirates. 
The colour went from their six faces like enchantment; some 
leaped to their feet, some clawed hold of others ; Morgan 
grovelled on the ground. 

“ It’s Flint, by ! ” cried Merry. 

The song had stopped as suddenly as it began — broken off, 
you would have said, in the middle of a note, as though some- 
one had laid his hand upon the singer’s mouth. Coming so far 
through the clear, sunny atmosphere among the green tree-tops, 
I thought it had sounded airily and sweetly ; and the effect on 
my companions was the stranger. 

“ Come,” said Silver, struggling with his ashen lips to get 
the word out, “ this won’t do. Stand by to go about. This 
is a rum start, and I can’t name the voice : but it’s someone 
skylarking — someone that’s flesh and blood, and you may lay 
to that.” 

His courage had come back as he spoke, and some of the 
colour to his face along with it. Already the others had begun 
to lend an ear to this encouragement, and were coming a little 
to themselves, when the same voice broke out again — not this 
time singing, but in a faint distant hail, that echoed yet fainter 
among the clefts of the Spy-glass. 

“ Darby M‘Graw,” it wailed — for that is the word that best 


202 


TREASURE ISLAND 


describes the sound — “ Darby M‘Grraw ! Darby M‘Graw ! ” 
again and again and again ; and then rising a little higher, 
and with an oath that I leave out, “ Fetch aft the rum, 
Darby ! ” 

The buccaneers remained rooted to the ground, their ,eyes 
starting from their heads. Long after the voice had died away 
they still stared in silence, dreadfully, before them. 

“ That fixes it ! ” gasped one. “ Let’s go.” 

“ They was his last words,” moaned Morgan, “ his last words 
above board.” 

Dick had his Bible out, and was praying volubly. He had 
been well brought up, had Dick, before he came to sea and fell 
among bad companions. 

Still, Silver was unconquered. I could hear his teeth rattle 
in his head ; but he had not yet surrendered. 

“Nobody in this here island ever heard of Darby,” he mut- 
tered : “ not one but us that’s here.” And then, making a 
great effort, “ Shipmates,” he cried, “ I’m here to get that stuff, 
and I’ll not be beat by man nor devil. I never was feared of 
Flint in his life, and, by the powers, I’ll face him dead. There’s 
seven hundred thousand pound not a quarter of a mile from 
here. When did ever a gentleman o’ fortune show his stern 
to that much dollars, for a boosy old seaman with a blue mug 
— and him dead, too ? ” 

But there was no sign of re-awakening courage in his fol- 
lowers ; rather, indeed, of growing terror at the irreverence of 
his words. 

“Belay there, John!” said Merry. “Don’t you cross a 
sperrit.” 

And the rest were all too terrified to reply. They would 
have run away severally had they dared ; but fear kept them 
together, and kept them close by John, as if his daring helped 
them. He, on his part, had pretty well fought his weak- 
ness down. 


THE VOICE AMONG THE TREES 203 

“ Sperrit ? Well, maybe/’ he said. “ But there’s one thing 
not clear to me. There was an echo. Now, no man ever seen 
a sperrit with a shadow ; well, then, what’s he doing with an 
echo to him, I should like to know ? That ain’t in natur’, 
surely ? ” 

This argument seemed weak enough to me. But you can 
never tell what will affect the superstitious, and, to my wonder, 
George Merry was greatly relieved. 

“Well, that’s so,” he said. “You’ve a head upon your 
shoulders, John, and no mistake. ’Bout ship, mates ! This 
here crew is on a wrong tack, I do believe. And come to think 
on it, it was like Flint’s voice, I grant you, but not just so 
clear-away like it, after all. It was liker somebody else’s voice 
now — it was liker — ” 

“ By the powers, Ben Gunn ! ” roared Silver. 

“Ay, and so it were,” cried Morgan, springing on his knees. 
“ Ben Gunn it were ! ” 

“ It don’t make much odds, do it, now 1 ” asked Dick. 
“Ben Gunn’s not here in the body, any more’n Flint.” 

But the older hands greeted this remark with scorn. 

“ Why nobody minds Ben Gunn,” cried Merry; “dead or 
alive, nobody minds him.” 

It was extraordinary how their spirits had returned, and how 
the natural colour had revived in their faces. Soon they were 
chatting together, with intervals of listening; and not long 
after, hearing no further sound, they shouldered the tools and 
set forth again, Merry walking first with Silver’s compass to 
keep them on the right line with Skeleton Island. He had said 
the truth ; dead or alive, nobody minded Ben Gunn. 

Dick alone still held his Bible, and looked around him as he 
went, with fearful glances ; but he found no sympathy, and Sil- 
ver even joked him on his precautions. 

“I told you,” said he — “I told you, you had sp’iled your 
Bible. If it ain’t no good to swear by, what do you suppose a 


204 


TREASURE ISLAND 


sperrit would give for it? Not that ! ” and he snapped his big 
fingers, halting a moment on his crutch. 

But Dick was not to be comforted ; indeed, it was soon plain 
to me that the lad was falling sick ; hastened by heat, exhaus- 
tion, and the shock of his alarm, the fever, predicted by 
Dr. Livesey, was evidently growing swiftly higher. 

It was fine open walking here, upon the summit ; our way 
lay a little down hill, for, as I have said, the plateau tilted 
towards the west. The pines, great and small, grew wide 
apart : and even between the clumps of nutmeg and azalea, 
wide open spaces baked in the hot sunshine. Striking, as we 
did, pretty near northwest across the island, we drew, on the 
one hand, ever nearer under the shoulders of the Spy-glass, and 
on the other, looked ever wider over that western bay where I 
had once tossed and trembled in the coracle. 

The first of the tall trees was reached, and by the bearing, 
proved the wrong one. So with the second. The third rose 
nearly two hundred feet into the air above a clump of under- 
wood ; a giant of a vegetable, with a red column as big as a 
cottage, and a wide shadow around in which a company could 
have manoeuvred. It was conspicuous far to sea both on the 
east and west, and might have been entered as a sailing mark 
upon the chart. 

But it was not its size that now impressed my companions ; 
it was the knowledge that seven hundred thousand pounds in 
gold lay somewhere buried below its spreading shadow. The 
thought of the money, as they drew nearer, swallowed up their 
previous terrors. Their eyes burned in their heads ; their feet 
grew speedier and lighter ; their whole soul was bound up in 
that fortune, that whole lifetime of extravagance and pleasure, 
that lay waiting there for each of them. 

Silver hobbled, grunting, on his crutch ; his nostrils stood 
out and quivered ; he cursed like a madman when the flies 
settled on his hot and shiny countenance ; he plucked furiously 


THE VOICE AMONG THE TREES 


205 


at the line that held me to him, and, from time to time, turned 
his eyes upon me with a deadly look. Certainly he took no 
pains to hide his thoughts ; and certainly I read them like 
print. In the immediate nearness of the gold, all else had 
been forgotten ; his promise and the doctor’s warning were 
both things of the past ; and I could not doubt that he hoped 
to seize upon the treasure, find and board the Hispaniola under 
cover of night, cut every honest throat about that island, and 
sail away as he had at first intended, laden with crimes and 
riches. 

Shaken as I was with these alarms, it was hard for me to 
keep up with the rapid pace of the treasure-hunters. Now 
and again I stumbled ; and it was then that Silver plucked so 
roughly at the rope and launched at me his murderous glances. 
Dick, who had dropped behind us, and now brought up the 
rear, was babbling to himself both prayers and curses, as his 
fever kept rising. This also added to my wretchedness, and, to 
crown all, I was haunted by the thought of the tragedy that 
had once been acted on that plateau, when that ungodly buc- 
caneer with the blue face — he who died at Savannah, singing 
and shouting for drink — had there, with his own hand, cut 
down his six accomplices. This grove, that was now so peace- 
ful, must then have rung with cries, I thought ; and even with 
the thought I could believe I heard it ringing still. 

We were now at the margin of the thicket. 

“ Huzza, mates, all together ! ” shouted Merry ; and the 
foremost broke into a run. 

And suddenly, not ten yards further, we beheld them stop. 
A low cry arose. Silver doubled his pace, digging away with 
the foot of his crutch like one possessed ; and next moment he 
and I had come also to a dead halt. 

Before us was a great excavation, not very recent, for the 
sides had fallen in and grass had sprouted on the bottom. In 
this were the shaft of a pick broken in two and the boards of 


206 


TREASURE ISLAND 


several packing-cases strewn around. On one of these boards 
I saw, branded with a hot iron, the name Walrus — the name 
of Flint’s ship. 

All was clear to probation. The cache had been found and 
rifled : the seven hundred thousand pounds were gone ! 


CHAPTER XXXIII 


THE FALL OF A CHIEFTAIN 

There never was such an overturn in this world. Each of 
these six men was as though he had been struck. But with 
Silver the blow passed almost instantly. Every thought of his 
soul had been set full-stretch, like a racer, on that money ; well, 
he was brought up in a single second, dead ; and he kept his 
head, found his temper, and changed his plan before the others 
had had time to realise the disappointment. 

“Jim,” he whispered, “take that, and stand by for trouble.” 

And he passed me a double-barrelled pistol. 

At the same time he began quietly moving northward, and 
in a few steps had put the hollow between us two and the other 
five. Then he looked at me and nodded, as much as to say, 
“ Here is a narrow corner,” as, indeed, I thought it was. His 
looks were now quite friendly ; and I was so revolted at these 
constant changes, that I could not forbear whispering, “ So 
you’ve changed sides again.” 

There was no time left for him to answer in. The buc- 
caneers, with oaths and cries, began to leap, one after another, 
into the pit, and to dig with their fingers, throwing the boards 
aside as they did so. Morgan found a piece of gold. He held 
it up with a perfect spout of oaths. It was a two-guinea piece, 
and it went from hand to hand among them for a quarter of a 
minute. 

“ Two guineas ! ” roared Merry, shaking it at Silver. “ That’s 
your seven hundred thousand pounds, is it? You’re the man 

207 


208 


TREASURE ISLAND 


for bargains, ain’t you ? You’re him that never bungled nothing, 
you wooden-headed lubber ! ” 

“ Dig away, boys,” said Silver, with the coolest insolence ; 
“ you’ll find some pig-nuts and I shouldn’t wonder.” 

“ Pig-nuts ! ” repeated Merry, in a scream. “Mates, do you 
hear that ? I tell you, now, that man there knew it all along. 
Look in the face of him, and you’ll see it wrote there.” 

“ Ah, Merry,” remarked Silver, “ standing for cap’n again ? 
You’re a pushing lad, to be sure.” 

But this time everyone was entirely in Merry’s favour. They 
began to scramble out of the excavation, darting furious glances 
behind them. One thing I observed, which looked wfeU for us : 
they all got out upon the opposite side from Silver. 

Well, there we stood, two on one side, five on the other, 
the pit between us, and nobody screwed up high enough to 
offer the first blow. Silver never moved ; he watched them, 
very upright on his crutch, and looked as cool as ever I saw 
him. He was brave and no mistake. 

At last, Merry seemed to think a speech might help matters. 

“ Mates,” says he, “ there’s two of them alone there ; one’s 
the old cripple that brought us all here and blundered us down 
to this ; the other’s that cub that I mean to have the heart of. 
Now, mates — ” 

He was raising his arm and his voice, and plainly meant to 
lead a charge. But just then — crack ! crack ! crack ! — three 
musket-shots flashed out of the thicket. Merry tumbled head 
foremost into the excavation ; the man with the bandage spun 
round like a teetotum , 0 and fell all his length upon his side, 
where he laid dead, but still twitching; and the other three 
turned and ran for it with all their might. 

Before you could wink, Long John had fired two barrels of 
a pistol into the struggling Merry ; and as the man rolled up 
his eyes at him in the last agony, “George,” said he, “I reckon 
I settled you.” 


THE FALL OF A CHIEFTAIN 


209 


At the same moment the doctor, Gray, and Ben Gunn joined 
us, with smoking muskets, from among the nutmeg trees. 

“Forward!” cried the doctor. “Double quick, my lads. 
We must head ’em off the boats.” 

And we set off at a great pace, sometimes plunging through 
the bushes to the chest. 

I tell you, but Silver was anxious to keep up with us. The 
work that man went through, leaping on his crutch till the 
muscles of his chest were fit to burst, was work no sound man 
ever equalled; and so thinks the doctor. As it was, he was 
already thirty yards behind us, and on the verge of strangling, 
when we reached the brow of the slope. 

“ Doctor,” he hailed, “ see there ! no hurry ! ” 

Sure enough there was no hurry. In a more open part of 
the plateau, we could see the three survivors still running in the 
same direction as they had started, right for Mizzen-mast Hill. 
We were already between them and the boats ; and so we four 
sat down to breathe, while Long John, mopping his face, came 
slowly up with us. 

“ Thank ye kindly, doctor,” says he. “ You came in in about 
the nick, I guess, for me and Hawkins. And so it’s you, Ben 
Gunn ! ” he added. “ Well, you’re a nice one, to be sure.” 

“I’m Ben Gunn, I am,” replied the maroon, wriggling like 
an eel in his embarrassment. “ And,” he added, after a long 
pause, “how do, Mr. Silver? Pretty well, I thank ye, says 
you.” 

“Ben, Ben,” murmured Silver, “to think as you’ve done 
me ! ” 

The doctor sent back Gray for one of the pickaxes, deserted, 
in their flight, by the mutineers; and then as we proceeded 
leisurely down hill to where the boats were lying, related, in a 
few words, what had taken place. It was a story that pro- 
foundly interested Silver ; and Ben Gunn, the half-idiot maroon, 
was the hero from beginning to end. 


210 


TREASURE ISLAND 


Ben, in his long, lonely wanderings about the island, had 
found the skeleton — it was he that had rifled it; he had 
found the treasure ; he had dug it up (it was the haft of his 
pickaxe that lay broken in the excavation) ; he had carried 
it on his back, in many weary journeys, from the foot of a tall 
pine to a cave he had on the two-pointed hill at the north-east 
angle of the island, and there it had lain stored in safety since 
two months before the arrival of the Hispaniola. 

When the doctor had wormed this secret from him, on the 
afternoon of the attack, and when, next morning, he saw the 
anchorage deserted, he had gone to Silver, given him the chart, 
which was now useless — given him the stores, for Ben Gunn’s 
cave was well supplied with goats’ meat salted by himself — 
given anything and everything to get a chance of moving in 
safety from the stockade to the two-pointed hill, there to be 
clear of malaria and keep a guard upon the money. 

“As for you, Jim,” he said, “it went against my heart, but 
I did what I thought best for those who had stood by their 
duty ; and if you were not one of these, whose fault was it ? ” 

That morning, finding that I was to be involved in the horrid 
disappointment he had prepared for the mutineers, he had run 
all the way to the cave, and, leaving squire to guard the cap- 
tain, had taken Gray and the maroon, and started, making the 
diagonal across the island, to be at hand beside the pine. Soon, 
however, he saw that our party had the start of him ; and Ben 
Gunn, being fleet of foot, had been despatched in front to do 
his best alone. Then it had occurred to him to work upon the 
superstitions of his former shipmates ; and he was so far suc- 
cessful that Gray and the doctor had come up and were already 
ambushed before the arrival of the treasure-hunters. 

“ Ah,” said Silver, “ it were fortunate for me that I had 
Hawkins here. You would have let old John be cut to bits, 
and never given it a thought, doctor.” 

“Not a thought,” replied Dr. Livesey, cheerily. 


THE FALL OF A CHIEFTAIN 


211 


And by this time we had reached the gigs. The doctor, 
with the pickaxe, demolished one of them, and then we all got 
aboard the other and set out to go round by sea for North 

Inlet. 

This was a run of eight or nine miles. Silver, though he 
was almost killed already with fatigue, was set to an oar, like the 
rest of us, and we were soon skimming swiftly over a smooth 
sea. Soon we passed out of the straits and doubled the 
south-east corner of the island, round which, four days ago, we 
had towed the Hispaniola. 

As we passed the two-pointed hill, we could see the black 
mouth of Ben Gunn’s cave, and a figure standing by it, leaning 
on a musket. It was the squire ; and we waved a handkerchief 
and gave him three cheers, in which the voice of Silver joined 
as heartily as any. 

Three miles farther, just inside the mouth of North Inlet, 
ii what should we meet but the Hispaniola , cruising by herself? 
The last flood had lifted her ; and had there been much wind, 
or a strong tide current, as in the southern anchorage, we should 
never have found her more, or founchher stranded beyond help. 
As it was, there was little amiss, beyond the wreck of the mqin- 
sail. Another anchor was got ready, and dropped in a fathom 
and a half of water. We all pulled round again to Rum Cove, 
the nearest point for Ben Gunn’s treasure-house ; and then 
Gray, single-handed, returned with the gig to the Hispaniola , 
where he was to pass the night on guard. 

A gentle slope ran up from the beach to the entrance of the 
cave. At the top, the squire met us. To me he was cordial 
and kind, saying nothing of my escapade, either in the way of 
blame or praise. At Silver’s polite salute he somewhat flushed. 

“John Silver,” he said, “you’re a prodigious villain and 
impostor — a monstrous impostor, sir. I am told I am not to 
prosecute you. Well, then, I will not. But the dead men, sir, 
hang about your neck like millstones.” 


212 


TREASURE ISLAND 


“Thank you kindly, sir,” replied Long John, again saluting. 

“ I dare you to thank me ! ” cried the squire. “ It is a gross 
dereliction of my duty. Stand back.” 

And thereupon we all entered the cave. It was a large, airy 
place, with a little spring and a pool of clear water, overhung 
with ferns. The floor was sand. Before a big fire lay Captain 
Smollett ; and in a far corner, only duskily flickered over by 
the blaze, I beheld great heaps of coin and quadrilaterals built 
of bars of gold. That was Flint’s treasure that we had come so 
far to seek, and that had cost already lives of seventeen men 
from the Hispaniola. How many it had cost in the amassing, 
what blood and sorrow, what good ships scuttled on the deep, 
what brave men walking the plank blindfold, what shot of can- 
non, what shame and lies and cruelty, perhaps no man alive 
could tell. Yet there were still three upon that island — Silver, 
and old Morgan, and Ben Gunn — who had each taken his share 
in these crimes, as each had hoped in vain to share in the reward. 

“ Come in, Jim,” said the captain. “ You’re a good boy in 
your line, Jim ; but I don’t think you and me’ll go to sea again. 
You’re too much of the born favourite for me. Is that you, 
John Silver 1 ? What brings you here, man?” 

“ Come back to my dooty, sir,” returned Silver. 

“ Ah ! ” said the captain ; and that was all he said. 

What a supper I had of it that night, with all my friends 
around me ; and what a meal it was, with Ben Gunn’s salted 
goat, and some delicacies and a bottle of old wine from the 
Hispaniola. Never, I am sure, were people gayer or happier., 
And there was Silver, sitting back almost out of the firelight, 
but eating heartily, prompt to spring forward when anything 
was wanted, even joining quietly in our laughter — the same 
bland, polite, obsequious seaman of the voyage out. 


CHAPTER XXXIV 


AND LAST 

The next morning we fell early to work, for the transporta- 
tion of this great mass of gold near a mile by land to the beach, 
and thence three miles by boat to the Hispaniola , was a con- 
siderable task for so small a number of workmen. The three 
fellows still abroad upon the island did not greatly trouble us ; 
a single sentry on the shoulder of the hill was sufficient to in- 
sure us against any sudden onslaught, and we thought, besides, 
they had had more than enough of fighting. 

Therefore the work was pushed on briskly. Gray and Ben 
Gunn came and went with the boat, while the rest, during 
their absences, piled treasure on the beach. Two of the 
bars, slung in a rope’s-end, made a good load for a grown man 
— one that he was glad to walk slowly with. For my part, 
as I was not much use at carrying, I was kept busy all day in 
the cave, packing the minted money into bread-bags. 

It was a strange collection, like Billy Bones’s hoard for the 
diversity of coinage, but so much larger and so much more 
varied that I think I never had more pleasure than in sorting 
them. English, French, Spanish, Portuguese, Georges, and 
Louises, doubloons and double guineas and moidores 0 and 
sequins , 0 the pictures of all the kings of Europe for the last 
hundred years, strange Oriental pieces stamped with what 
looked like wisps of string or bits of spider’s web, round pieces 
and square pieces, and pieces bored through the middle, as if 
to wear them round your neck — nearly every variety of money 

213 


214 


TREASURE ISLAND 


in the world must, I think, have found a place in that collec- 
tion ; and for number, I am sure they were like autumn leaves, 
so that my back ached with stooping and my fingers with sort- 
ing them out. 

Day after day this work went on ; by every evening a fortune 
had been stowed aboard, but there was another fortune waiting 
for the morrow ; and all this time we heard nothing of the three 
surviving mutineers. 

At last — I think it was on the third night — the doctor and 
I were strolling on the shoulder of the hill where it overlooks 
the ]owlands of the isle, when, from out the thick darkness 
below, the wind brought us a noise between shrieking and sing- 
ing. It was only a snatch that reached our ears, followed by 
the former silence. 

“ Heaven forgive them,” said the doctor ; “ ’tis the muti- 
neers ! ” 

“ All drunk, sir,” struck in the voice of Silver from 
behind us. 

Silver, I should say, was allowed his entire liberty, and, in 
spite of daily rebuffs, seemed to regard himself once more as 
quite a privileged and friendly dependent. Indeed, it was 
remarkable diow well he bore these slights, and with what 
unwearying politeness he kept on trying to ingratiate himself 
with all. Yet, I think, none treated him better than a dog ; 
unless it was Ben Gunn, who was still terribly afraid of his old 
quartermaster, or myself, who had really something to thank 
him for ; although for that matter, I suppose, I had reason to 
think even worse of him than anybody else, for I had seen him 
meditating a fresh treachery upon the plateau. Accordingly, 
it was pretty gruffly that the doctor answered him. 

“ Drunk or raving,” said he. 

“ Right you were, sir,” replied Silver ; “ and precious little 
odds which, to you and me.” 

“ I suppose you would hardly ask me to call you a humane 


CHAPTER LAST 


215 


man,” returned the doctor, with a sneer, “ and so my feelings 
may surprise you, Master Silver. But if I were sure they were 
raving — as I am morally certain one, at least, of them is down 
with fever — I should leave this camp, and, at whatever risk 
to my own carcass, take them the assistance of my skill.” 

“Ask your pardon, sir, you would be very wrong,” quoth 
Silver. “You would lose your precious life, and you may lay 
to that. I’m on your side now, hand and glove ; and I shouldn’t 
wish for to see the party weakened, let alone yourself, seeing as 
I know what I owes you. But these men down there, they 
couldn’t keep their word — no, not supposing they wished to ; 
and what’s more, they couldn’t believe as you could.” 

“ No,” said the doctor. “ You’re the man to keep your word, 
we know that.” 

Well, that was about the last news we had of the three 
pirates. Only once we heard a gunshot a great way off, and 
supposed them to be hunting. A council was held, and it was 
decided that we must desert them on the island — to the huge 
glee, I must say, of Ben Gunn, and with the strong approval 
of Gray. We left a good stock of powder and shot, the bulk 
of the salt goat, a few medicines, and some other necessaries, 
tools, clothing, a spare sail, a fathom or two of rope, and, by 
the particular desire of the doctor, a handsome present of 
tobacco. 

That was about our last doing on the island. Before that, 
we had got the treasure stowed, and had shipped enough water 
and the remainder of the goat meat, in case of any distress ; 
and at last, one fine morning, we weighed anchor, which was 
about all that we could manage, and stood out of North Inlet, 
the same colours flying that the captain had flown and fought 
under at the palisade. 

The three fellows must have been watching us closer than 
we thought for, as we soon had proved. For, coming through 
the narrows, we had to lie very near the southern point, and 


216 


TREASURE ISLAND 


there we saw all three of them kneeling together on a spit of 
sand, with their arms raised in supplication. It went to all 
our hearts, I think, to leave them in that wretched state ; but 
we could not risk another mutiny ; and to take them home for 
the gibbet would have been a cruel sort of kindness. The doc- 
tor hailed them and told them of the stores we had left, and 
where they were to find them. But they continued to call us 
by name, and appeal to us, for God’s sake, to be merciful, and 
not leave them to die in such a place. 

At last, seeing the ship still bore on her course, and was now 
swiftly drawing out of earshot, one of them — I know not which 
it was — leapt to his feet with a hoarse cry, whipped his musket 
to his shoulder, and sent a shot whistling over Silver’s head 
and through the mainsail. 

After that, we kept under cover of the bulwarks, and when 
next I looked out they had disappeared from the spit, and the 
spit itself had almost melted out of sight in the growing distance. 
That was, at least, the end of that ; and before noon, to my 
inexpressible joy, the highest rock of Treasure Island had sunk 
into the blue round of sea. 

We were so short of men that everyone on board had to bear 
a hand — only the captain lying on a mattress in the stern and 
giving his orders ; for, though greatly recovered, he was still in 
want of quiet. We laid her head for the nearest port in Spanish 
America, for we could not risk the voyage home without fresh 
hands ; and as it was, what with baffling winds and a couple of 
fresh gales, we were all worn out before we reached it. 

It was just at sundown when we cast anchor in a most 
beautiful land-locked gulf, and were immediately surrounded by 
shore boats full of negroes, and Mexican Indians, and half- 
bloods, selling fruit and vegetables, and offering to dive for bits 
of money. The sight of so many good-humoured faces (especially 
the blacks), the taste of the tropical fruits, and above all, the 
lights that began to shine in the town, made a most charming 


CHAPTER LAST 


217 


contrast to our dark and bloody sojourn on the island ; and the 
doctor and the squire, taking me along with them, went ashore 
to pass the early part of the night. Here they met the captain 
of an English man-of-war, fell in talk with him, went on board 
his ship, and, in short, had so agreeable a time, that day was 
breaking when we came alongside the Hispaniola. 

Ben Gunn was on deck alone, and, as soon as we came on 
board, he began, with wonderful contortions, to make us a con- 
fession. Silver was gone. The maroon had connived at his 
escape in a shore boat some hours ago, and he now assured us 
he had only done so to preserve our lives, which would certainly 
have been forfeit if “ that man with the one leg had stayed 
aboard.” But this was not all. The sea-cook had not gone 
empty handed. He had cut through a bulkhead unobserved, 
and had removed one of the sacks of coin, worth, perhaps, three 
or four hundred guineas, to help him on his further wanderings. 

I think we were all pleased to be so cheaply quit of him. 

Well, to make a long story short, we got a few hands on 
board, made a good cruise home, and the Hispaniola reached 
Bristol just as Mr. Blandly was beginning to think of fitting 
out her consort. Five men only of those who had sailed 
returned with her. “Drink and the devil had done for the 
rest,” with a vengeance; although, to be sure, we were not 
quite in so bad a case as that other ship they sang about : — 

“ With one man of her crew alive, 

What put to sea with seventy-five.” 

All of us had an ample share of the treasure, and used it 
wisely or foolishly, according to our natures. Captain Smollett 
is now retired from the sea. Gray not only saved his money, 
but, being suddenly smit with the desire to rise, also studied 
his profession ; and he is now mate and part owner of a fine 
full-rigged ship ; married besides, and the father of a family. 
As for Ben Gunn, he got a thousand pounds, which he spent 


218 


TREASURE ISLAND 


or lost in three weeks, or, to be more exact, in nineteen days, 
for he was back begging on the twentieth. Then he was given 
a lodge to keep, exactly as he had feared upon the island ; and 
he still lives, a great favourite, though something of a butt, 
with the country boys, and a notable singer in church on Sun- 
days and saints’ days. 

Of Silver we have heard no more. That formidable seafaring 
man with one leg has at last gone clean out of my life ; but I 
daresay he met his old negress, and perhaps still lives in com- 
fort with her and Captain Flint. It is to be hoped so, I suppose, 
for his chances of comfort in another world are very small. 

The bar silver and the arms still lie, for all that I know, 
where Flint buried them ; and certainly they shall lie there for 
me. Oxen and wain-ropes would not bring me back again to 
that accursed island ; and the worst dreams that ever I have 
are when I hear the surf booming about its coasts, or start 
upright in bed, with the sharp voice of Captain Flint still 
ringing in my ears ; “ Pieces of eight ! pieces of eight ! ” 


NOTES 


TO THE HESITATING PURCHASER 

Page xxxi, line 3. Maroons. Originally the fugitive slaves of 
Jamaica and Dutch Guiana, who made war on the white settlers. 
Here persons put ashore and abandoned on a desolate coast: a 
custom practised by pirates. 

1. 4. Buccaneer, or Bucaneer. A curer of meat (from boucaner , 
smoke meat, from boucan , a place for smoking meat) ; a name first 
applied in the early part of the seventeenth century to the French 
settlers of Hispaniola (San Domingo) and of the neighboring island, 
Tortuga del Mer, who hunted the flesh of wild animals for purposes 
of trade. Self-interest and Spanish opposition soon united these 
adventurers — who later represented all nations save Spain — into 
a compact confederation ; and, as it was but an easy step from 
smuggling to piracy, these freebooters for more than half a century, 
either under the high-sounding name of privateer or as plain pirate, 
laid the entire commerce of the Spanish Main by the heels. Yet, 
despite their cupidity and foulness, and the human blood that every- 
where followed in their wake, such examples of reckless daring and 
physical courage, such hairbreadth escapes and visions of fabulous 
wealth are called to mind at the mention of such names as Eng- 
land, Roberts, Davis, Kidd, Morgan, Blackbeard, and others, that 
few words in the language have a larger romantic connotation than 
does this word Buccaneer. And while the characters in this tale, 
in keeping with this connotation, are broadly typical and are not 
at all historical, nevertheless there is much in the suggested 

219 


220 


NOTES 


[Page xxxi 


characterization of Flint which reminds us of what tradition has 
fastened to the career of Edward Teach, the Blackbeard, who also 
had a subordinate by the name of Hands. Cf. Harper's Monthly , 
vol. lxxv, 357, 502. 

1. 12. Ballantyne. Robert Michael Ballantyne. A writer of 
juveniles. Born 1825 ; died 1894. 

1. 13. Cooper. James Fenimore Cooper. Born 1789 ; died 
1851. See his sea-tales. 


Page 1, line 1. Trelawney. This was the name of a celebrated 
governor of Jamaica. 

1. 6. In the year of grace 17-. See “ A Gossip on Romance ” 
{Memories and Portraits, p. 248) for the way in which Stevenson 
as a boy liked a story to begin. Do you share this same feeling ? 

1. 11. A tall, strong, heavy, nut-brown man, etc. Do these 
few details readily help you make a picture of the man ? Which 
detail is to you the most vivid ? Note in the following descriptions 
a similar effect. 

1. 19. Fifteen men on the dead man’s chest — 

Yo-ho-ho, and a bottle of rum ! 

The first two lines of a song of West Indian piracy, which origi- 
nated in the wreck of an English buccaneer on the cay called “The 
Dead Man’s Chest” (from which it is said only a quantity of rum 
and fifteen men were saved). For the complete song, which fol- 
lows, I am indebted to Mr. Jeffery Montague of The Bichmond 
Times , who has pieced from various fragments this song together. 

BILLY BONES’S FANCY. 

(To the tune of “ Blow the Man Down.”) 

“Fifteen men on a dead man’s chest; 

Yo-’ea’(heave)-ho, and a bottle o’ rum! 

Drink and the devil had done for the rest ; 

Yo-’ea’-ho, and a bottle o’ rum ! 


pp. 1-2] 


NOTES 


221 


‘ ‘ They drank and they drank and they got so drunk, 
Yo-’ea’-ho, and a bottle o’ rum! 

Each from the dead man bit a chunk ; 

Yo-’ea’-ho, and a bottle o’ rum ! 

“They sucked his blood and they crunched his bones; 
Yo-’ea’-ho, and a bottle o’ rum ! 

When suddenly up came Davy Jones ; 

Yo-’ea’-ho, and a bottle o’ rum! 

“And Davy Jones had a big black key ; 

Yo-’ea’-ho, and a bottle o’ rum ! 

The key to his locker beneath the sea; 

Yo-’ea’-ho, and a bottle o’ rum ! 

“He winked and he blinked like an owl in a tree; 

Yo-’ea’-ho, and a bottle o’ ruip ! 

And grinned with a horrible kind o’ glee ; 

Yo-’ea’-ho, and a bottle o’ rum! 

“ ‘My men,’ says he, ‘you must come wi’ me — ’ 

Yo : ’ea’-ho, and a bottle o’ rum ! 

‘ Must come wi’ me to the depths o’ the sea ; ’ 

Yo-’ea’-ho, and a bottle o’ rum ! 

“ So he clapped them into his locker in the sea, 

Yo-’ea’-ho, and a bottle o’ rum ! 

And he locked them in with his big black key ; 

Yo-’ea’-ho, and a bottle o’ rum! ” 

Note the recurrence of the fragment of this song, and its signifi- 
cance in the development of the tale. Compare Scott’s use of this 
element of romantic invention in The Pirate and in Guy Mannering : 
see also Stevenson’s appreciation of the same in “A Gossip on 
Romance.” 

Page 2, line 2. Tuned and broken at the capstan bars, has 
reference to the sing-song indulged in by sailors while heaving at 
the capstan bars, where, as in the foregoing song, the boatswain 
lines off the verse and the capstan crew bawls forth the refrain. 
Capstan bars. The hand-levers for turning the capstan, an appa- 
ratus for hoisting or hauling weights. 


222 


NOTES 


[pp. 2-14 


1. 6. Connoisseur. One possessing fine critical judgment or 
taste. 

Page 3, line 9. Coast road for Bristol. “ When a seaman put up 
at the ‘Admiral Benbow’ . . . making by the coast road for Bris- 
tol.’ ’ Note the romantic effect of this setting, laid as it is somewhere 
on the seacoast not far from Bristol, at this time the second seaport 
in England, which was not only filled with seafaring men, but inti- 
mately acquainted with piracy by the depredations done its com- 
merce. 

Page 4, line 20. Dry Tortugas. The name of a group of coral 
keys situated in the Gulf of Mexico off the extreme southern coast 
of Florida. 

1. 21. Spanish Main. A name vaguely applied to the northern 
coast of South America ; popularly used to designate the Caribbean 
Sea. 

1. 34. Terrible at sea. Compare Billy Bones and his conduct 
with Irving’s'account of the buccaneer and his behavior in the inn 
in Wolfert Webber. 

Page 14, line 19. Another stroke would settle him. Stevenson 
once wrote to a friend of the first sixteen pages of a story then 
underway ( The Beach of Falesa ) : “Make another end of it? Ah, 
yes, but that’s not the way I write : the whole tale is implied ; I 
never use an effect, when I can help it, unless it prepares the effects 
that are to follow ; that’s what a story consists in. To make an- 
other end, that is to make the beginning all wrong.” — Vailima Let- 
ters, vol. I, p. 147. Also : “If you are going to make a book end 
badly, it must end badly from the beginning.” — The Letters of 
Bobert Louis Stevenson , vol. II, p. 320. See likewise his advice 
to the young writer in “ A Humble Remonstrance” : Memories 
and Portraits , pp. 295 ff. 

How much of this tale is implied in these two chapters ? Does 
the tale end badly ? Note the effects that prepare for other effects, 
and how this economy of interest serves the purpose of plot as the 
tale progresses. 


pp. 15-30] 


NOTES 


223 


Page 15, line 9. Noggin (Scotch). A small cup or mug. 

1. 13. Swabs. Same as Lubbers. 

1. 20. On a lee shore. In a lurch. The shore towards which 
the wind blows rather than that from which it proceeds ; hence 
lonely, desolate. 

1. 22. Fidge. Scotch for fidget. 

Page 16, line 20. Lubber. A dolt, a clumsy fellow: one defi- 
cient in seamanship. 

Page 18, line 27. He piped up to a different air, a kind of country 
love-song. See note to sea-song. 

Page 19, line 7. Will any kind friend inform a poor blind 

man ? Cf. David Balfour’s encounter with the blind beggar in 
Kidnapped. This type of villain seems the survival of a frightened 
childish fancy. Has any of this fear been translated into these 
pages ? See also Dickens’s treatment of the blind man in Barnaby 
Budge. 

Page 23, line 22. Lugger. A small two or three masted vessel 
ordinarily used for fishing. 

Page 25, line 7. Gully. A sheath-knife. Are these articles 
characteristic of a sailor’s pocket ? Note the contents of the chest 
below. 

Page 26, line 13. Doubloon. A gold coin of Spain and Spanish 
America. Value about $8. Louis-d’or. “ A gold coin of France, 
first struck in 1640 in the reign of Louis XIII.” Value about $5. 
Guinea. So called because first coined in 1663 from Guinea gold. 
An English coin of the value of about $5. Pieces of eight. So 
called because it contained eight reals: the celebrated “Spanish 
dollar,” a large silver coin of Spain and of Spanish America of 
varying value. 

Page 30, line 11. Turned the chest out alow and aloft = ran- 
sacked. 

1. 15. Flint’s fist = handwriting (document). 


224 


NOTES 


[pp. 31-62 


Page 31, line 20. You hang a leg = delay. 

1. 29. Take the Georges. Here coin : from the name of an 
English gold coin, which bore the figure of St. George on the 
obverse. 

Page 37, line 10. Blackbeard. Edward Teach, one of the most 
daring and bloodthirsty pirates of the Spanish Main. See note to 

Buccaneer. 

1. 14. Trinidad. An island off the northeast coast of Venezuela, 
discovered by Columbus, and taken from the Spanish by the British 
in 1797. Port of Spain, its capital, was the scene of one of Black- 
beard’s most daring exploits. 

Page 38, line 12. Off Palm Key. An indefinite reference. What 
is its effect ? 

1. 27. Offe Caraccas. Caracas, the capital of Venezuela. 

Page 40, line 5. Cache. A cairn, or hole in the ground, made 
for the concealment of treasures or stores. 

1. 22. To play duck and drake with. Same as duck on drake ; 
a game played with stones. 

Page 43, line 19. A pretty rum go = it is very odd. 

Page 50, line 21. Dead-eye. A sheaveless block used in rigging 
a ship. 

1. 25. Keel-hauling. A mode of punishment in which a 
man is hauled under a ship’s bottom from one side to the 
other. 

Page 52, line 10. Davy = affidavit. 

1. 11. Stand by to go about = Let’s change the subject. 

Page G2, line 14. Lanyard. A short piece of rope or line. 


pp. 63-67] NOTES 225 

Page 63, line 15. England. Captain Ned England, a pirate 
who operated in East Indian waters. 

1. 16. Madagascar. The famous rendezvous for pirates of the 
Indian Ocean. 

1. 16. Malabar. Malabar coast. The name given to the south- 
western coast of British India. 

1. 16. Surinam. Dutch Guiana. 

1. 17. Providence. Old Providence, formerly St. Catherine. 
An island off the eastern coast of Nicaragua, the scene of Morgan’s 
first operation. 

1. 17. Portobello. Porto Bello. A port on the eastern coast of 
the Isthmus of Panama, which was frequently sacked; once, in 
1668, by Captain Henry Morgan, chief of buccaneers, knight by 
the grace of Charles II, and governor of Jamaica, whose accumu- 
lated prizes, it has been estimated, amounted to $3,650,000. Cf. 
Harper's Monthly , vol. xix, 20, and vol. lxxv, 366. 

1. 21. Goa. The capital of the Portuguese possessions in 
India. 

Page 64, line 32. We had run up the trades. The trade-winds, 
or constants, that blow westerly between latitudes 30° north and 
30° south. 

Page 66, line 6. Roberts. Captain Bartholomew Roberts (suc- 
cessor to Captain Davis), who fell while boldly engaging one of 
the king’s men-of-war. 

1. 17. Davis. Captain Ilowel Davis, a pirate of unrivalled au- 
dacity, who met death by the treachery of one of his own crew. 

Page 67, line 1. Duff. A stiff flour-pudding, often containing 
raisins (plum duff), which is served to sailors on Sundays and 
special occasions. 

Q 


226 


NOTES 


[pp. 70-95 


Page 70, line 8. Execution Dock. The place at London docks 
where pirates were hanged in chains. 

Page 71, line 33. Hold to your luff. Hold to your course : stick 
to your purpose. 

Page 74, line 22. Capt. Kidd’s Anchorage. Captain William 
Kidd, a well-known American pirate, hanged at Execution Dock, 
London, May 23, 1701. See Irving’s “Kidd the Pirate” : Tales 
of a Traveller. 

Page 75, line 11. Snack. A slight luncheon. 

Page 79, line 17. Scuppers. The openings at the side of the 
ship to allow water to run from the deck. 

Page 80, line 15. The ship warped. To warp a ship is to move 
it from one berth to another by hauling on a rope which is usually 
made fast to some object ashore. 

1. 26. Conned the ship. Directed its course. 

Page 82, line 17. Tiff. A pet : a peevish display of temper. 

1. 31. Gig. One of the lighter of a ship’s boats suited for fast 
rowing, but generally fitted with sails. 

Page 92, line 29. Gaskin, gasking. Shreds of oakum used in 
calking a ship’s seams. 

Page 93, line 12. By the stone. A stone is an English measure 
of weight varying in value with the article weighed. A stone of 
cheese is sixteen pounds. 

1. 32. Chuck-farthen. Chuck-farthing. A game in which a 
farthing is pitched or chucked into a hole. Same as pitch- 
penny. 

Page 95, line 4. Clove hitch = a tight place. 

1. 30. Cutwater. The prow of a ship. Mortal white about the 
cutwater = pale. 


pp. 98-111] 


NOTES 


227 


Page 98, line 21. “ Lillibullero.” The name of a political bal- 
lad written about 1686 by Lord Wharton. It was a satire on James 
II, the Papists, and more especially General Richard Talbot, the 
newly appointed lord-lieutenant of Ireland and recently created 
Earl of Tyrconnel. Its refrain, Lillibullero bullen a-la — the al- 
leged watchwords of the insurgents at the massacre of Ulster in 
1641 — -together with the music, a march or quickstep (attributed 
to Henry Purcell), made this song the fit medium for expressing 
that excited state of public feeling which filled England just prior 
to and following the year 1688. “ From one end of England to the 
other,” writes Macaulay, “all classes were constantly singing this 
idle rhyme. It was especially the delight of the English army. 
More than seventy years after the Revolution Sterne delineated, 
with exquisite skill, a veteran [Uncle Toby in Tristram Shandy'] 
who had fought at the Boyne and at Namur. One of the character- 
istics of the good old soldier was his trick of whistling 4 Lillibul- 
lero.’ ” Cf. Percy’s Beliques of Ancient English Poetry . 

Page 99, line 2. Jolly-boat. One of the smaller of a ship’s boats 
used for hack-work. 

Page 100, line 2. Duke of Cumberland. William Augustus, 
youngest son of George II. (born 1721 ; died 1765), who com- 
manded at the battle of Fontenoy, 1745. 

Page 101, line 34. Painter. The rope used in fastening a boat 
from the bow. 

Page 102, line 14. Ship’s counter. That part of a ship’s stern 
that lies between the water-line and the knuckle. 

1. 26. Hang so long in stays. Hesitate, delay. 

Page 103, line 4. Gallipot. A small earthen pot or vessel. 

Page 107, line 6. Bandoleer. A broad belt over the shoulder 
and across the breast to secure ammunition, etc. 

Page 111, line 26. Ricochet. The rebound of a shot fired along 
the surface of the ground. 


228 


NOTES 


[pp. 114-158 


Page 114, line 10. Noon observation to about six bells, i.e. 
from 12 to 3 p.m. 

Page 117, line 25. Parmesan cheese. A dry, hard, granular 
cheese made in Parma, Italy, and used much in flavoring dishes. 

Page 120, line 22. How cavalier. Blunt, disdainful; after the 
manner of a cavalier. 

1.33. “Come, Lasses and Lads.” What was the probable 
nature of his song? Does the whistling of it have any special 
significance here ? 

Page 121, line 11. Main. Exceedingly. Middle English, mayn ; 
Icelandic, meiginn. Cf. By might and main. 

Page 123, line 31. Davy Jones. Destruction. In the mythol- 
ogy of sailors Davy Jones personifies the evil spirits of the deep : 
thus Davy Jones’s locker, the grave of those who perish at sea. 
Cf. “ Billy Bones’s Eancy.” 

Page 124, line 17. Rum puncheon. Rum cask : called puncheon, 
perhaps, from stamping tool used in marking its quantity. 

Page 126, line 34. Doldrums. Those parts of the ocean near the 
equator which abound in calms and baffling winds ; also the calms 
characteristic of those parts. See in Coleridge’s Ancient Manner 
the description of the becalmed ship beginning 

“ Down dropt the breeze, the sails dropt down.” 

Page 134, line 23. To take French leave. To go without leave- 
taking or consent. 

Page 135, line 21. Spit. A point of land, or sandy bar, extend- 
ing into the sea. 

Page 136, line 31. Coracle. A rude boat made by covering a 
wicker frame with skins. See cut in Century Dictionary. 

Page 158, line 5. I’ve missed stays. To miss in going about 
from one tack to another ; fail in one’s undertaking ; to be undone. 


pp. 166-213] 


NOTES 


229 


Page 166, line 10. Doused. Struck, lowered suddenly. 

Page 173, line 25. Dog watch. One of the two short watches 
between 4 and 8 p.m. : the corresponding watch between 4 and 8 
a.m. is called “ the morning watch.” An error in nautical nomen- 
clature. 


Page 174, line 1. From cross-trees to kelson. Top and bottom. 

Page 176, line 8. Cock his hat athwart my hawse. Insolently 
challenge me. 

Page 180, line 25. Belay that talk = hold on there. 

Page 188, line 34. Slip your cable. Escape. 

Page 189, line 22. Gammon. Hoodwink. 

Page 191, line 11. Holus bolus. The whole of it. 

Page 193, line 1. Flint’s pointer. Compare Flint’s pointer and 
this treasure hunt with the experience of the treasure hunters in 
Poe’s The Gold-Bug. 

Page 198, line 32. A copper doit. A Dutch coin of insignificant 
value. 

Page 208, line 28. Teetotum. A four-sided top used in a game 
of chance. 

Page 213, line 21. Moidore. A Portuguese coin of the value of 
about $5.50. 

1. 22. Sequin. A Venetian coin of the value of about $2.20. 














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